v;^lOSANCElfx^ 


■^a3AINn3\\V 


^0FCAIIF0%,        ^0FCAIIF0% 


^WEUNIVERS7a 


o 


^^tllBRARYQ^ 


^OJITVDJO'^ 


AV\E-UNIVER%       ^>clOSANCElfXy. 


o 


'^^mmMw 


=o       o 


^.OF-CAIIFO/?^ 


^<?Aavaaii-^^ 


^WEUNIVERi/A 


o 


vvlOSANCElfj> 


"^AaHAiNn  3WV 


^OFCAIIFO/?^       ^.< 


^ILIBHAKYQ^       >^^l-LIBRARYQ^^ 


'^(I/OJIIVDJO^       ^OJIIVDJO"^ 


\\^EUNIVERS/A 


o 


10SANCElfj> 


"^aaAiNn-HWv 


^OFCALIFOfiV 


^OF-CALIFO/?;)^ 


"^OAavaaiH^      ^^AavaaiH^ 


^WEUNIVER5/A 


o 


-^ILIBRARYQ^;^  ^^WE  UNIVERi"/^ 


^<!/0JnVDJO'^ 


o 


vvlOSANCEt/Jv> 


%a3AiNn]WV 


-5^lLIBRARYQr^        -^ 


^(I/OJIWOJO'^       \ 


^A;OFCAIIFO/?^ 


^    4?i 


y: 


,  ^WE  UNIVER5//V 


^lOSANCElfj> 
o 


^OFCALIFO/?^      ^( 


•>&Aavaaiii^        <r?i30NVsoi^     ^ajAiNnawv        ^^Aavaaii^'      ^^ 


i^'^'\^CElfj^ 


i^"Uii=: 


iJUITilJUdl 


^^WEUNIVEW/^       ^> 


-<  ^^^ 


1=^1  i( 


^OFCAIIFO/?^ 


^OFCALIK)^^ 


"^^^Advaani^^ 


'^<:?Aav}ian#' 


^ME•UNIVER5•/A 


<ri]30NVS01^ 


^lOSANCElfj^. 


33 

'%a3AiNn]WV^ 


\V\EUNIVER% 


^ 


^\^E•UNIVERi•/A 


<r;ia3Nvsoi^^ 


v^lOSANCElfj> 
o  ^ 

CO 

=13 


-< 

%a3AINn-3V\V^ 


^OF-CAliFO% 


^t-LIBRARYdJc 


so       S 


'^<i/ojnv3jo'<^ 


^•OFCAIiFO/?^ 


"^^Aavjfanis^ 


^ILIBRARYQc 


^.!fOjnv>jo>^ 

^OFCAIIFO/?^ 


^^ILIBRARYOr 


^\^EUNIVERV/. 


^x>.LOSANCElfj> 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


1 


/ia3AiNa-3V\v-- 


^"^ommv^^ 


^tUNiVEK 


xlOSANCElfj> 


^    ^\M. 


^mmm^      '^-''AdaAiNii-awv 


\\^EUNIVER5yA 


^VlOS-ANCElfj> 


<rii]ONVsoi^ 


^.^lllBRARYQc^ 


^>^IIIBRARYQ^ 


%jnv3jo'«^     '^.i/ojiivojo^ 


^ 


^^ME  UNIVER,9/;^^, 

i;  *  II      I   J 

<ril30NVS01^ 


A^F-C,Ai!FOP;j// 
4r 


C3 
r-n 


A^iLibKhittP///www.arcliive.org/details/dollydialoguesOOIiope 


THE    DOLLY     DIALOGUES 


The  DOLLY 
DIALOGUES 

By     ANTHONY     HOPE 


WITH    EIGHTEEN   ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 
HOWARD  CHANDLER   CHRISTY 


r'HESE  are  foolish  things  to  all  the  wise — 
And  I  love  wisdom  more  than  she  loves  me 


NEW    YORK    •    R.   H.   RUSSELL 

NINETEEN.      HUNDRED       AND       ONE 


Copyright      1901     by 
ROBERT    HOWARD   RUSSELL 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS    .     JOHN    WILSON 
AND     SON      •     CAMBRIDGE,     U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  —  A  Liberal  Education 9 

11.  —  Cordial   Relations 16 

III.  —  Retribution 24 

IV. — The  Perverseness  of  It 31 

V.  —  A  Matter  of   Duty 39 

VI.  —  My  Last  Chance 47 

VII.  —  The  Little  Wretch! 55 

VIII.  —  An  Expensive  Privilege 63 

IX.  —  A  Very  Dull  Affair 71 

X.  —  Strange,  but  True 80 

XI. — The  Very  Latest  Thing     ....  89 

XII. — An  Uncounted  Hour 97 

XIII. — A  Reminiscence 105 

XIV. — Ancient  History 113 

XV.— A  Fine  Day 122 

XVI. — The  House  Opposite 129 

XVII. — A  Quick  Change 137 

XVIII. — A  Slight  Mistake 145 

V 


159S98 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XIX. — The  Other  Lady 153 

XX. — A  Life  Subscription 161 

XXL — What  Might  Have  Been    .     .     .     .169 

XXIL — A  Fatal  Obstacle 178 

XXIIL— The  Curate's  Bump 186 

XXIV.— One  Way  In 194 


List  of   Illustrations 


Dolly Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Mr.  Carter         lo 

Miss  Dolly  Foster       . i8 

"  Wer.e  you  ever  in  Love  ?  "  she  asked     ....  32 

"  Are  n't  you  accustomed  to  your  dignity  yet .''  "       .  40 

"  Why,  I  was  the  man  with  Lady  Mickleham  "  .  66 
"  There  is  n't,"  said  George,  "  a  girl  in  London  to 

touch  her" 84 

"  Lady  Mickleham  is  usually  accounted  a  person  of 

considerable  attractions  " 92 

"I've    been    hearing    something    about    you,    Mr. 

Carter" 114 

"  He 's  a  nice  boy,"  said  she.     "  How  like  he  is  to 

you,  Mr.  Carter  " 126 

"You  were  sitting  close  by  me  —  on  a  bench  "      .  138 

"You  seem  very  pleased  with  yourself,"  said  Dolly  154 

"  Aren't  you  ever  going  to  marry  }" 162 

"  Oh,  mine  's  a  life  subscription  " 166 

"  She  used  to  bore  me  awfully  about  you  "  .  .  .  180 
"  Now,    is  n't     that     provoking  ? "     cried     Dolly. 

"They  haven't  rolled  the  tennis  lawn"       .  188 

"  You  are  an  Apollo,  Mr.  Carter  "      .....  192 

vii 


The  Dolly  Dialogues 


A    LIBERAL    EDUCATION 

|HERE  'S  ingratitude  for  you  !  " 
Miss  Dolly  Foster  exclaimed 
suddenly. 

"  Where  ?  "    I    asked,    rousing 
myself  from  meditation. 

She  pointed  at  a  young  man 
who  had  just  passed  where  we  sat.  He  was 
dressed  very  smartly,  and  was  walking  with  a 
lady  attired  in  the  height  of  the  fashion. 

"I  made  that  man,"  said  Dolly,  "and  now 
he  cuts  me  dead  before  the  whole  of  the  Row  ! 
It's  atrocious.  Why,  but  for  me,  do  you  sup- 
pose he  'd  be  at  this  moment  engaged  to  three 
thousand  a  year  and  —  and  the  plainest  girl  in 
London  ?  " 

"  Not  that,"  I  pleaded  ;  "  think  of—  " 
"  Well,  very  plain,  anyhow.     I  was  quite  ready 
to  bow  to  him.     I  almost  did." 
"  In  fact,  you  did  ?  " 
"I  didn't.     I  declare  I  didn't." 
"  Oh,  well,  you  did  n't,  then.     It  only  looked 
like  it." 

9 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  I  met  him,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  "  three  years 
ago.  At  that  time  he  was  —  oh,  quite  unpre- 
sentable. He  was  everything  he  shouldn't  be. 
He  was  a  teetotaler,  you  know,  and  he  didn't 
smoke,  and  he  was  always  going  to  concerts. 
Oh,  and  he  wore  his  hair  long,  and  his  trousers 
short,  and  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head.  And 
his  umbrella  —  " 

"  Where  did  he  wear  that  ?  " 

"  He  carried  that,  Mr.  Carter.  Don't  be 
silly  !  Carried  it  unrolled,  you  know,  and  gen- 
erally a  paper  parcel  in  the  other  hand ;  and  he 
had  spectacles  too." 

"  He  has  certainly  changed  outwardly  at  least." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  well,  I  did  that.  I  took  him 
in  hand,  and  I  just  taught  him,  and  now  —  ! " 

"Yes,  I  know  that.  But  how  did  you  teach 
him  ?  Give  him  Saturday  evening  lectures,  or 
what?" 

"Oh,  every-evening  lectures,  and  most-morning 
walks.  And  I  taught  him  to  dance,  and  I  broke 
his  wretched  fiddle  with  my  own  hands  !  " 

"  What  very  arbitrary  distinctions  you  draw !  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  do  like 
a  man  to  be  smart,  anyhow.  Don't  you,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  You  're  not  so  smart  as  you  might  be. 
Now,  shall  I  take  you  in  hand  .? "  And  she 
smiled  upon  me. 


\ 


r=:,^^,,tiJt-fl  i  l(tO»J  ).,'►■  I   Mist 


r 


Mr.    Carter 


A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION 

"  Let 's  hear  your  method.  What  did  you  do 
to  him  ?  " 

"  To  Phil  Meadows  ?  Oh,  nothing.  I  just 
slipped  in  a  remark  here  and  there,  whenever  he 
talked  nonsense.  I  used  to  speak  just  at  the 
right  time,  you  know." 

"  But  how  had  your  words  such  influence,  Miss 
Foster?" 

"  Oh,  well,  you  know,  Mr.  Carter,  I  made  it 
a  condition  that  he  should  do  just  what  I  wanted 
in  little  things  like  that.  Did  he  think  I  was 
going  to  walk  about  with  a  man  carrying  a  brown- 
paper  parcel  —  as  if  we  had  been  to  the  shop  for 
a  pound  of  tea  ?  " 

"  Still,  I  don't  see  why  he  should  alter  all 
his  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  are  stupid !  Of  course,  he  liked 
me,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  did  he  ?      I  see." 

"  You  seem  to  think  that  very  funny." 

"  Not  that  he  did  —  but  that,  apparently,  he 
does  n't." 

"  Well,  you  got  out  of  that  rather  neatly —  for 
you.  No,  he  does  n't  now.  You  see,  he  mis- 
understood my  motive.  Rethought  —  well,  I  do 
believe  he  thought  I  cared  for  him,  you  know. 
Of  course  I  did  n't." 

"  Not  a  bit?" 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Just  as  a  friend  —  and  a  pupil,  you  know. 
And  when  he  'd  had  his  hair  cut  and  bought  a 
frock-coat  (fancy !  he  'd  never  had  one !),  he 
looked  quite  nice.  He  has  nice  eyes.  Did  you 
notice  them  ?  " 

"  Lord,  no  !  " 

"  Well,  you  're  so  unobservant." 

"  Oh,  not  always.      I  've  observed  that  your  —  " 

"  Please  don't !     It 's  no  use,  is  it  ?  " 

I  looked  very  unhappy.  There  is  an  under- 
standing that  I  am  very  unhappy  since  Miss 
Foster's  engagement  to  the  Earl  of  Mickleham 
was  announced. 

"  What  was  I  saying  before  —  before  vou  — 
you  know  —  oh,  about  Phil  Meadows,  of  course. 
I  did  like  him  very  much,  you  know,  or  I  should  n't 
have  taken  all  that  trouble.  Why,  his  own  mother 
thanked  me  !  " 

"I  have  no  more  to  say,"  said  L 

"  But  she  wrote  me  a  horrid  letter  afterwards." 

"  You  're  so  very  elliptical." 

"  So  very  what,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  You  leave  so  much  out,  I  mean.     After  what .?  " 

"  Why,  after  I  sent  him  away.  Did  n't  I  tell 
you  ?  Oh,  we  had  the  most  awful  scene.  He 
rave^^,  Mr.  Carter.  He  called  me  the  most  hor- 
rid names,  and — " 

"  Tore  his  hair  ?  " 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION 

"  It  was  n't  long  enough  to  get  hold  of,"  she 
tittered.  "  But  don't  laugh.  It  was  really  dread- 
ful. And  so  unjust !  And  then,  next  day,  when 
I  thought  it  was  comfortably  over,  you  know,  he 
came  back,  and  —  and  apologised,  and  called  him- 
self the  most  awful  names,  and  —  well,  that  was 
really  worse." 

"What  did  the  fellow  complain  of?"  I  asked 
in  wondering  tones. 

"  Oh,  he  said  I  'd  destroyed  his  faith  in  women, 
you  'know,  and  that  I  'd  led  him  on,  and  that  I 
was  —  well,  he  was  very  rude  indeed.  And  he 
went  on  writing  me  letters  like  that  for  a  whole 
year  !     It  made  me  quite  uncomfortable." 

"  But  he  did  n't  go  back  to  short  trousers  and 
a  fiddle,  did  he  ?  "  I  asked  anxiously. 

"Oh,  no.  But  he  forgot  all  he  owed  me>  and 
he  told  me  that  his  heart  was  dead,  and  that  he 
should  never  love  any  one  again." 

"  But  he  's  going  to  marry  that  girl." 

"  Oh,  he  does  n't  care  about  her,"  said  Miss 
Dolly,  reassuringly.  "  It 's  the  money,  you  know. 
He  had  n't  a  farthing  of  his  own.  Now  he  '11  be 
set  up  for  life." 

"  And  it 's  all  due  to  you  !  "  said  I,  admiringly. 

"Well,  it  is,  really." 

"  I  don't  call  her  such  a  bad-looking  girl, 
though."     (I   hadn't  seen  her  face.) 

13 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Mr.  Carter  !     She 's  hideous  !  " 
I  dropped  that  subject. 

"  And  now,"  said  Miss  Dolly  again,  "  he  cuts 
me  dead  !  " 

"  It  is  the  height  of  ingratitude.  Why,  to  love 
you  was  a  liberal  education  ! " 

"  Yes,  was  n't  it .?  How  nicely  you  put  that ! 
'  A  liberal  education  !  '  I  shall  tell  Archie." 
(Archie  is  Lord  Mickleham.) 

"  What,  about  Phil  Meadows  ?  " 

"  Goodness  me,  no,  Mr.  Carter.  Just  what  you 
said,  you  know." 

"  But  why  not  tell  Mickleham  about  Phil 
Meadows  ?  "  I  urged.  "  It 's  all  to  your  credit, 
you  know." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  men  are  so  foolish.  You 
see,  Archie  thinks  —  " 

"  Of  course  he  does." 

"  You  might  let  me  finish." 

"  Archie  thinks  you  were  never  in  love  before." 

"  Yes,  he  does.  Well,  of  course,  I  was  n't  in 
love  with  Phil  —  " 

"Not  a  little  bit?" 

"  Oh,  well  —  " 

"  Nor  with  any  one  else  ?  " 

Miss  Dolly  prodded  the  path  with  her  parasol. 

"  Nor  with  any  one  else .?  "   I  asked  again. 

Miss  Dolly  looked  for  an  instant  in  my 
direction.  14 


A   LIBERAL   EDUCATION 

"  Nor  with  any  one  else  ?  "  said  I. 

Miss  Dolly  looked  straight  in  front  of  her. 

"  Nor  with  —  "  I  began. 

"  Hullo,  old  chappie,  where  did  you  spring 
from  ? " 

"Why,  Archie!"  cried  Miss  Dolly. 

"  Oh,  how  are  you,  Mickleham,  old  man  ? 
Take  this  seat;  I  'm  just  off — just  off.  Yes,  I 
was,  upon  my  honour  —  got  to  meet  a  man  at  the 
club.     Good-by,  Miss  Foster.    Jove  !   I  'm  late  !  " 

And  as  I  went  I  heard  Miss  Dolly  say,  "  I 
thought  you  were  never  coming,  Archie,  dear  ! " 
Well,  she  did  n't  think  he  was  coming  just  then. 
No  more  did  I. 


15 


II 


CORDIAL    RELATIONS 

HE  other  day  I  paid  a  call  on 
Miss  Dolly  Foster  for  the  pur- 
pose of  presenting  to  her  my 
small  offering  on  the  occasion 
of  her  marriage  to  Lord  Mick- 
leham.  It  was  a  pretty  little  bit 
of  jewellery,  —  a  pearl  heart,  broken  (rubies  played 
the  part  of  blood)  and  held  together  by  a  gold  pin, 
set  with  diamonds,  the  whole  surmounted  by  an 
earl's  coronet.  I  had  taken  some  trouble  about 
it,  and  I  was  grateful  when  Miss  Dolly  asked  me 
to  explain  the  symbolism. 

"  It  is  my  heart,"  I  observed.  "  The  fracture 
is  of  your  making  :   the  pin  —  " 

Here  Miss  Dolly  interrupted ;  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  was  not  sorry,  for  I  was  fairly  gravelled  for  the 
meaning  of  the  pin. 

"What  nonsense,  Mr.  Carter!"  said  she;  "but 
it 's  awfully  pretty.  Thanks,  so  very,  very  much. 
Are  n't  relations  funny  people  ?  " 

"If  you  wish  to  change  the  subject,  pray 
do,"  said  I.  "I  '11  change  anything  except  my 
affections." 

i6 


CORDIAL    RELATIONS 

"  Look  here,"  she  pursued,  holding  out  a  bun- 
dle of  letters.  "  Here  are  the  congratulatory- 
epistles  from  relations.  Shall  I  read  you  a 
few  ?  " 

"  It  will  be  a  most  agreeable  mode  of  passing 
the  time,"  said  I. 

"  This  is  from  Aunt  Georgiana  —  she 's  a 
widow  —  lives  at  Cheltenham.  '  My  dearest 
Dorothea  — ' " 

"  Who  ?  " 

"Dorothea's  my  name,  Mr.  Carter.  It  means 
the  gift  of  heaven,  you  know." 

"  Precisely.  Pray  proceed.  Miss  Dolly.  I  did 
not  at  first  recognise  you." 

"  ^  My  dearest  Dorothea,  I  have  heard  the  news 
of  your  engagement  to  Lord  Mickleham  with 
deep  thankfulness.  To  obtain  the  love  of  an 
honest  man  is  a  great  prize.  I  hope  you  will 
prove  worthy  of  it.  Marriage  is  a  trial  and  an 
opportunity  — '  " 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  I.  "A  trial  for  the 
husband  and  —  " 

"  Be  quiet,  Mr.  Carter.  ^  A  trial  and  an  oppor- 
tunity. It  searches  the  heart  and  it  affords  a 
sphere  of  usefulness  which  — '  So  she  goes  on, 
you  know.  I  don't  see  why  I  need  be  lectured 
just  because  I  'm  going  to  be  married,  do  you,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

2  17 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Let 's  try  another,"  said  L  "  Who  's  that  on 
pink  paper  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  Georgy  Vane.  She 's  awful  fun. 
'  Dear  old  Dolly,  —  So  you  've  brought  it  off. 
Hearty  congrats.  I  thought  you  were  going  to 
be  silly  and  throw  away — '  There's  nothing 
else  there,  Mr.  Carter.  Look  here.  Listen  to 
this.  It's  from  Uncle  William.  He's  a  clergy- 
man, you  know.  '  My  dear  Niece,  —  I  have 
heard  with  great  gratification  of  your  engagement. 
Your  aunt  and  I  unite  in  all  good  wishes.  I  recol- 
lect Lord  Mickleham's  father  when  I  held  a  cur- 
acy near  Worcester.  He  was  a  regular  attendant 
at  church  and  a  supporter  of  all  good  works  in  the 
diocese.  If  only  his  son  takes  after  him  '  (fancy 
Archie  !)  *  you  have  secured  a  prize.  I  hope  you 
have  a  proper  sense  of  the  responsibilities  you  are 
undertaking.  Marriage  affords  no  small  oppor- 
tunities ;  it  also  entails  certain  trials  — '  " 

"  Why,  you  're  reading  Aunt  Georgiana  again." 
"  Am  I  ?     No,  it 's  Uncle  William." 
"Then   let's   try   a  fresh   cast — unless   you'll 
finish  Georgy  Vane's." 

"  Well,  here 's  Cousin  Susan's.  She 's  an  old 
maid,  you  know.  It 's  very  long.  Here  's  a  bit : 
*  Woman  has  it  In  her  power  to  exercise  a  sacred 
influence.  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  knowing 
Lord  Mickleham,  but  I  hope,  my  dear,  that  you 


}1:..„^>,l   L'twuJir^  I    i<l 


Miss   Dolly   Foster 


CORDIAL    RELATIONS 

will  use  your  power  over  him  for  good.  It  is 
useless  for  me  to  deny  that  when  you  stayed  with 
me,  I  thought  you  were  addicted  to  frivolity. 
Doubtless  marriage  will  sober  you.  Try  to  make 
a  good  use  of  its  lessons.  I  am  sending  you  a 
biscuit  tin'  —  and  so  on." 

"  A  very  proper  letter,"  said  I. 

Miss  Dolly  indulged  in  a  slight  grimace,  and 
took  up  another  letter. 

"  This,"  she  said,  "  is  from  my  sister-in-law, 
Mrs.  "Algernon   Foster." 

"  A  daughter  of  Lord  Doldrums,  was  n't  she  ?  " 

"  Yes.  '  My  dear  Dorothea,  —  I  have  heard 
your  news.  I  do  hope  it  will  turn  out  happily. 
I  believe  that  any  woman  who  conscientiously  does 
her  duty  can  find  happiness  in  married  life.  Her 
husband  and  children  occupy  all  her  time  and  all 
her  thoughts,  and  if  she  can  look  for  few  of  the 
lighter  pleasures  of  life,  she  has  at  least  the  knowl- 
edge that  she  is  of  use  in  the  world.  Please  ac- 
cept the  accompanying  volumes '  (it 's  Browning) 
'  as  a  small  —  '  I  say,  Mr.  Carter,  do  you  think 
it 's  really  like  that  ?  " 

"  There  is  still  time  to  draw  back,"  I  observed. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  silly.  Here,  this  is  my  brother 
Tom's.  '  Dear  Dol,  —  I  thought  Mickleham 
rather  an  ass  when  I  met  him,  but  I  dare  say  you 
know   best.     What 's   his    place    like  ?     Does   he 

19 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

take  a  moor?  I  thought  I  read  that  he  kept  a 
yacht.  Does  he  ?  Give  him  my  love  and  a  kiss. 
Good  luck,  old  girl.  —  Tom.  P.S. —  I'm  glad 
it's  not  me,  you  know.'" 

"  A  disgusting  letter,"  I  observed. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  dimpling.  "  It 's 
just  like  dear  old  Tom.  Listen  to  grandpapa's. 
'  My  dear  Granddaughter,  —  The  alliance  '  (I  rather 
like  it's  being  called  an  alliance,  Mr.  Carter.  It 
sounds  like  the  Royal  Family,  doesn't  it?)  'you 
are  about  to  contract  is  in  all  respects  a  suitable 
one.  I  send  you  my  blessing,  and  a  small  check 
to  help  towards  your  trousseau.  —  Yours  affec- 
tionately, Jno.  Wm.  Foster.' " 

"  That,"  said  I,  "  is  the  best  up  to  now." 

"  Yes,  it 's  500,"  said  she,  smiling.  "  Here 's 
old  Lady  M.'s." 

''Whose?''  I  exclaimed. 

"  Archie's  mother's,  you  know.  '  My  dear 
Dorothea  (as  I  suppose  I  must  call  you  now), — 
Archibald  has  informed  us  of  his  engagement,  and 
I  and  the  girls '  (there  are  five  girls,  Mr.  Carter) 
'hasten  to  welcome  his  bride.  I  am  sure  Archie 
will  make  his  wife  very  happy.  He  Is  rather 
particular  (Hke  his  dear  father),  but  he  has  a  good 
heart,  and  is  not  fidgety  about  his  meals.  Of 
course  we  shall  be  delighted  to  move  out  of  The 
Towers  at  once.     I  hope  we  shall  see  a  great  deal 


CORDIAL    RELATIONS 

of  you  soon.  Archie  is  full  of  your  praises,  and 
we  thoroughly  trust  his  taste.  Archie  — '  It's 
all  about  Archie,  you  see." 

"  Naturally,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  I  count  a 
little,  too.  Oh,  look  here.  Here  's  Cousin  Fred's 
—  but  he 's  always  so  silly.  I  shan't  read  you 
his." 

"  Oh,  just  a  bit  of  it,"  I  pleaded. 

"  Well,  here 's  one  bit.  '  I  suppose  I  can't 
murder  him,  so  I  must  wish  him  joy.  All  I  can 
say  is,  Dolly,  that  he  's  the  luckiest '  (something  I 
can't  read —  either  fellow  or  —  devil)  '  I  ever  heard 
of     I  wonder  if  you  've  forgotten  that  evening — '  " 

"  Well,  go  on."      For  she  stopped. 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  else." 

"  In  fact,  you  have  forgotten  the  evening  ?  " 

"  Entirely,"  said  Miss  Dolly,  tossing  her  head. 
"  But  he  sends  me  a  love  of  a  bracelet.  He  can't 
possibly  pay  for  it,  poor  boy." 

"Young  knave  !  "  said  I,  severely.  (I  had  paid 
for  my  pearl  heart.) 

"  Then  come  a  lot  from  girls.  Oh,  there  's  one 
from  Maud  Tottenham  —  she  's  a  second  cousin, 
you  know  —  it 's  rather  amusing.  '  I  used  to  know 
your  fiance  slightly.  He  seemed  very  nice,  but 
it 's  a  long  while  ago,  and  I  never  saw  much  of 
him.     I   hope  he  is  really  fond  of  you,  and  that 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

it  is  not  a  mere  fancy.  Since  you  love  him  so 
much,  it  would  be  a  pity  if  he  did  not  care  deeply 
tor  you. 

"Interpret,  Miss  Dolly,"  said  I. 

"  She  tried  to  catch  him  herself,"  said  Miss 
Dolly. 

"  Ah,  I  see.     Is  that  all  ?  " 

"  The  others  are  n't  very  interesting." 

"  Then  let 's  finish  Georgy  Vane's." 

"  Really  ?  "  she  asked,  smiling. 

"Yes.     Really." 

"  Oh,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  don't,"  said  she, 
laughing,  and  she  hunted  out  the  pink  note  and 
spread  it  before  her.  "  Let  me  see.  Where  was 
I  ?  Oh,  here.  *  I  thought  you  were  going  to  be 
silly  and  throw  away  your  chances  on  some  of  the 
men  who  used  to  flirt  with  you.  Archie  Mickle- 
ham  may  not  be  a  genius,  but  he  's  a  good  fellow 
and  a  swell  and  rich  ;  he 's  not  a  pauper,  like 
Phil  Meadows,  or  a  snob,  like  Charlie  Dawson, 
or — 'shall  I  go  on,  Mr.  Carter?  No,  I  won't. 
I  didn't  see  what  it  was." 

"Yes,  you  shall  go  on." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  can't,"  and  she  folded  up  the  letter. 

"  Then  I  will,"  and  I  'm  ashamed  to  say  I 
snatched  the  letter.  Miss  Dolly  jumped  to  her 
feet.  I  fled  behind  the  table.  She  ran  round. 
I  dodged. 


CORDIAL    RELATIONS 

«<Or  — '"  I  began  to  read. 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  she. 

"  '  Or  a  young  spendthrift  Hke  that  man  —  I 
forget  his  name  —  whom  you  used  to  go  on  with 
at  such  a  pace  at  Monte  Carlo  last  winter.'  " 

"  Stop  !  "  she  cried,  stamping  her  foot.  I 
read  on  :  — 

"^No  doubt  he  was  charming,  my  dear,  and  no 
doubt  anybody  would  have  thought  you  meant  it; 
but  I  never  doubted  you.  Still,  were  n't  you  just 
a  little  — '" 

"  Stop  !  "  she  cried.  "  You  must  stop,  Mr. 
Carter." 

So  then  I  stopped.  I  folded  the  letter  and 
handed  it  back  to  her.  Her  cheeks  flushed  red  as 
she  took  it. 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  gentleman,"  said  she, 
biting  her  lip. 

"  I  was  at  Monte  Carlo  last  winter  myself," 
said  I. 

"  Lord  Mickleham,"  said  the  butler,  throwing 
open  the  door. 


23 


Ill 


RETRIBUTION 

IN  future  I  am  going  to  be  careful 
what  I  do.  I  am  also  —  and  this 
is  by  no  means  less  important  — 
going  to  be  very  careful  what 
Miss  Dolly  Foster  does.  Every- 
body knows  (if  I  may  quote  her 
particular  friend  Nellie  Phaeton)  that  dear  Dolly 
means  no  harm,  but  she  is  "just  a  little  harum- 
scarum."  I  thanked  Miss  Phaeton  for  the 
expression. 

The  fact  is  that  "  old  Lady  M."  (here  I  quote 
Miss  Dolly)  sent  for  me  the  other  day.      I  have 
not  the  honour  of  knowing  the   Countess,  and  I 
went  in  some  trepidation.     When  I  was  ushered 
in,  Lady  Mickleham  put  up  her  "  starers."     (You 
know  those  abominations  !     Pince-nez    with    long 
torture  —  I  mean  tortoise  —  shell  handles.) 
"Mr.  —  er  —  Carter?"  said  she. 
I  bowed.     I  would  have  denied  it  if  I  could. 
"  My  dears  !  "  said  Lady  Mickleham. 
Upon  this  five  young  ladies  who  had  been  sit- 
ting in  five  straight-backed  chairs,  doing  five  pieces 

24 


RETRIBUTION 

of  embroidery,  rose,  bowed,  and  filed  out  of  the 
room.  I  felt  very  nervous.  A  pause  followed. 
Then  the  Countess  observed  —  and  it  seemed  at 
first  rather  irrelevant  — 

"  I  've  been  reading  an  unpleasant  story." 

"In  these  days  of  French  influence,"  I  began 
apologetically  (not  that  I  write  such  stories,  or 
indeed  any  stories,  but  Lady  Mickleham  invites 
an  apologetic  attitude),  and  my  eye  wandered  to 
the  table.  I  saw  nothing  worse  (or  better)  than 
the  morning  paper  there, 

"Contained  in  a  friend's  letter,"  she  continued, 
focussing  the  "  starers  "  full  on  my  face. 

I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  so  I  bowed  again. 

"  It  must  have  been  as  painful  for  her  to  write 
as  for  me  to  read,"  Lady  Mickleham  went  on. 
"And  that  is  saying  much.      Be  seated,  pray." 

I  bowed,  and  sat  down  in  one  of  the  straight- 
backed  chairs.  I  also  began,  in  my  fright,  to  play 
with  one  of  the  pieces  of  embroidery. 

"Is  Lady  Jane's  work  in  your  way?"  (Lady 
Jane  is  named  after  Jane,  the  famous  Countess, 
Lady-in-Waiting  to  Caroline  of  Anspach.) 

I  dropped  the  embroidery,  and  put  my  foot  on 
my  hat. 

"  I  believe,  Mr.  Carter,  that  you  are  acquainted 
with  Miss  Dorothea  Foster?" 

"  I  have  that  pleasure,"  said  I. 
25 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Who  is  about  to  be  married  to  my  son,  the 
Earl  of  Mickleham  ?  " 

"  That,  I  believe,  is  so,"  said  I.  I  was  begin- 
ning to  pull  myself  together. 

"  My  son,  Mr.  Carter,  is  of  a  simple  and  trust- 
ing disposition.  Perhaps  I  had  better  come  to  the 
point.  I  am  informed  by  this  letter  that,  in  con- 
versation with  the  writer  the  other  day,  Archibald 
mentioned,  quite  incidentally,  some  very  startling 
facts.     Those  facts  concern  you,   Mr.   Carter." 

"  May  I  ask  the  name  of  the  writer  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  is  necessary,"  said  she. 
"  She  is  a  lady  in  whom  I  have  the  utmost 
confidence." 

"That  is,  of  course,  enough,"  said  L 

"It  appears,  Mr.  Carter  —  and  you  will  excuse 
me  if  I  speak  plainly  "  —  (I  set  my  teeth)  "  that  you 
have,  in  the  first  place,  given  to  my  son's  bride 
a  wedding  present,  which  I  can  only  describe  as  —  " 

"  A  pearl  ornament,"  I  interposed ;  "  with  a 
ruby  or  two,  and  — " 

"  A  pearl  heart,"  she  corrected  ;  "  er  —  fractured, 
and  that  you  explained  that  this  absurd  article 
represented  your  heart." 

"  Mere  badinage"  said  I. 

"  In  execrably  bad  taste,"  said  she. 

I  bowed. 

"In  fact,  most  offensive.  But  that  is  not  the 
26 


RETRIBUTION 

worst.  From  my  son's  further  statements  it  ap- 
pears that  on  one  occasion,  at  least,  he  found  you  and 
Miss  Foster  engaged  in  what  I  can  only  call  —  " 

I  raised  my  hand  in  protest.  The  Countess 
took  no  notice. 

"  What  I  can  only  call  romping.'" 

She  shot  this  word  at  me  with  extraordinary 
violence,  and  when  it  was  out  she  shuddered. 

"  Romping  !  "   I  cried. 

"  A  thing  not  only  atrociously  vulgar  at  all 
times,  but  under  the  circumstances  —  need  I  say 
more  ?  Mr.  Carter,  you  were  engaged  in  chasing 
my  son's  future  bride  round  a  table !  " 

"  Pardon  me.  Lady  Mickleham.  Your  son's 
future  bride  was  engaged  in  chasing  me  round  a 
table." 

"  It  is  the  same  thing,"  said  Lady  Mickleham. 

"  I  should  have  thought  there  was  a  distinction," 
said  I. 

"  None  at  all." 

I  fell  back  on  a  second  line  of  defence. 

"  I  did  n't  let  her  catch  me.  Lady  Mickleham," 
I  pleaded. 

Lady  Mickleham  grew  quite  red.  This  made 
me  feel  more  at  my  ease. 

"  No,  sir.      If  you  had  —  " 

"  Goodness  knows  !  "  I  murmured,  shaking  my 
head. 

27 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  As  it  happened,  however,  my  son  entered  in 
the  middle  of  this  disgraceful  —  " 

"  It  was  at  the  beginning,"  said  I,  with  a 
regretful  sigh. 

Upon  this  —  and  I  have  really  never  been  so 
pleased  at  anything  in  all  my  life — the  Countess, 
the  violence  of  her  emotions  penetrating  to  her 
very  fingers,  gripped  the  handle  of  her  "  starers  " 
with  such  force  that  she  broke  it  in  two  !  She 
was  a  woman  of  the  world,  and  in  a  moment  she 
looked  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  With  me  it 
was  different ;  and  that  I  am  not  now  on  Lady 
Mickleham's  visiting-list  is  due  to  (jinter  alia  et  eiior- 
mid)  the  fact  that  I  laughed  !  It  was  out  before 
I  could  help  it.  In  a  second  I  was  as  grave  as 
a  mute.  The  mischief  was  done.  The  Countess 
rose.     I  imitated  her  example. 

"You  are  amused?"  said  she,  and  her  tones 
banished  the  last  of  my  mirth.  I  stumbled  on  my 
hat,  and  it  rolled  to  her  feet. 

"It  is  not  probable,"  she  observed,  "that  after 
Miss  Foster's  marriage  you  will  meet  her  often. 
You  will  move  in  —  er  —  somewhat  different 
circles." 

"  I  may  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  in  her  carriage 
from  the  top  of  my  'bus,"  said  I. 

"  Your  milieu  and  my  son's  —  " 

"  I  know  his  valet,  though,"  said  I. 
28 


RETRIBUTION 

Lady  Mickleham  rang  the  bell.  I  stooped  for 
my  hat.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  rather  afraid  to 
expose  myself  in  such  a  defenceless  attitude,  but 
the  Countess  preserved  her  self-control.  The 
butler  opened  the  door.  I  bowed,  and  left  the 
Countess  regarding  me  through  the  maimed 
"  starers."  Then  I  found  the  butler  smiling.  He 
probably  knew  the  signs  of  the  weather.  I 
would  n't  be  Lady  Mickleham's  butler  if  you 
made  me  a  duke. 

As'  I  walked  home  through  the  Park  I  met 
Miss  Dolly  and  Mickleham.  They  stopped.  I 
walked  on.     Mickleham  seized  me  by  the  coat-tails. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  cut  us  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"Why,  what  the  deuce  —  ?  "  he  began. 

"  I  Ve  seen  your  mother,"  said  I.  "  I  wish, 
Mickleham,  that  when  you  do  happen  to  intrude 
as  you  did  the  other  day,  you  would  n't  repeat 
what  you  see." 

"  Lord  !  "  he  cried.  "  She 's  not  heard  of  that  ? 
I  only  told  Aunt  Cynthia." 

I  said  something  about  Aunt  Cynthia. 

"Does  —  does  she  know  it  all?"  asked  Miss 
Dolly. 

"  More  than  all  —  much  more." 

"Didn't  you  smooth  it  over?"  said  Miss 
Dolly,  reproachfully. 

29 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  On  reflection,"  said  I,  "  I  don't  know  that 
I  did  —  much."     (I  had  n't,  you  know.) 

Suddenly  Mickleham  burst  out  laughing. 

"  What  a  game  !  "   he  exclaimed. 

"That's  all  very  well  for  you,"  said  Dolly. 
"  But  do  you  happen  to  remember  that  we  dine 
there  to-night  ? " 

Archie  grew  grave. 

"  I  hope  you  '11  enjoy  yourselves,"  said  I.  "  I 
always  cling  to  the  belief  that  the  wicked  are 
punished."     And  I  looked  at  Miss  Dolly. 

"  Never  you  mind,  little  woman,"  said  Archie, 
drawing  Miss  Dolly's  arm  through  his.  "I  '11  see 
you  through.  After  all,  everybody  knows  that 
old  Carter 's  an  ass." 

That  piece  of  universal  knowledge  may  help 
matters,  but  I  do  not  quite  see  how.  I  walked 
on,  for  Miss  Dolly  had  quite  forgotten  me,  and 
was  looking  up  at  Archie  Mickleham  like  —  well, 
hang  it,  in  the  way  they  do,  you  know.  So  I  just 
walked  on. 

I  believe  Miss  Dolly  has  got  a  husband  who  is 
(let  us  say)  good  enough  for  her.  And,  for  one 
reason  and  another,  I  am  glad  of  it.  And  I  also 
believe  that  she  knows  it.  And  I  am  —  I  suppose 
—  glad  of  that  too.  Oh,  yes,  of  course  I  am. 
Of  course. 


30 


IV 


THE    PERVERSENESS   OF   IT 

TELL  you  what,  Mr.  Carter," 
said  Miss  Nellie  Phaeton,  touch- 
ing up  Rhino  with  her  whip, 
"  love  in  a  cottage  is  —  " 

"  Lord  forgive  us,  cinders, 
ashes,  dust,"  I  quoted. 
We  were  spanking  round  the  Park  behind 
Ready  and  Rhino.  Miss  Phaeton's  horses  are 
very  large;  her  groom  is  very  small,  and  her 
courage  is  indomitable.  I  am  no  great  hand  at 
driving  myself,  and  I  am  not  always  quite  com- 
fortable. Moreover,  the  stricter  part  of  my 
acquaintance  consider,  I  believe,  that  Miss 
Phaeton's  attentions  to  me  are  somewhat  pro- 
nounced, and  that  I  ought  not  to  drive  with  her 
in  the  Park. 

"You're  right,"  she  went  on.  "What  a  girl 
wants  is  a  good  house  and  lots  of  cash,  and  some 
ridin'  and  a  little  huntin'  and  —  " 

"A  few  'g's' !"  I  cried  in  shuddering  entreaty. 
"  If  you  love  me,  a  'g'  or  two." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  so,"  said  she.  "  You  can't 
go  ridin'  without  gees,  can  you  ?  " 

31 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Apparently  one  could  go  driving  without  any, 
but  I   did  not  pursue  the  subject. 

"  It 's  only  in  stories  that  people  are  in  love 
when  they  marry,"  observed  Miss  Phaeton, 
reflectively. 

"  Yes,  and  then  it 's  generally  with  somebody 
else,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  if  you  count  that  !  "  said  she,  hitting 
Ready  rather  viciously.  We  bounded  forward, 
and  I  heard  the  little  groom  bumping  on  the  back 
seat.  I  am  always  glad  not  to  be  a  groom  —  it 's 
a  cup-and-ball  sort  of  life,  which  must  be  very 
wearying. 

"  Were  you  ever  in  love  ?  "  she  asked,  just 
avoiding  a  brougham  which  contained  the  Duchess 
of  Dexminster.  (If,  by  the  way,  I  have  to  run 
into  any  one,  I  like  it  to  be  a  Duchess :  you  get  a 
much  handsomer  paragraph.) 

"Yes,"  said  I. 

"  Often  ?  " 

"Oh,  not  too  often,  and  I  always  take  great 
care,  you  know." 

"What  of?" 

"  That  it  shall  be  quite  out  of  the  question,  you 
know.  It 's  not  at  all  difficult.  I  only  have  to 
avoid  persons  of  moderate  means." 

"  But  are  n't  you  a  person  of —  ?  " 

"  Exactly.  That 's  why.  So  I  choose  either  a 
32 


'''i)iiiiit'i  riiii'ji'> 


I'Fere  you  ever  in   Love  ?  ' '    she  asked 


i 


THE    PERVERSENESS    OF    IT 

pauper  —  when  it's  impossible  —  or  an  heiress  — 
when  it 's  preposterous.     See  ?  " 

"But  don't  you  ever  want  to  get  —  ?"  began 
Miss  Phaeton. 

"  Let 's  talk  about  something  else,"  said  I. 

"  I  believe  you  're  humbuggin'  me,"  said  Miss 
Phaeton. 

"  I  am  offering  a  veiled  apology,"  said  I. 

"  Stuff  !  "  said  she.  "  You  know  you  told 
Dolly  Foster  that  I  should  make  an  excellent  wife 
for  a  trainer." 

Oh,  these  women  !  A  man  had  better  talk  to  a 
phonograph. 

"  Or  anybody  else,"  said  I,  politely. 

Miss  Phaeton  whipped  up  her  horses. 

"  Look  out !  There  's  the  mounted  police- 
man,"  I   cried. 

"  No,  he  is  n't.     Are  you  afraid  ?  "  she  retorted. 

"  I  'm  not  fit  to  die,"  I  pleaded. 

"  I  don't  care  a  pin  for  your  opinion,  you  know," 
she  continued  (I  had  never  supposed  that  she  did) ; 
"  but  what  did  you  mean  by  it.?  " 

"  I  never  said  it." 

«Oh!" 

"  All  right  —  I  never  did." 

"  Then  Dolly  invented  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  said  I,  steadily. 

"  On  your  honour  ?  " 
3  33 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,  come,  Miss  Phaeton  !  " 

"  Would  —  would  other  people  think  so  ?  "  she 
asked,  with  a  highly  surprising  touch  of  timidity. 

"  Nobody  would,"  I  said.  "  Only  a  snarling 
old  wretch  would  say  so,  just  because  he  thought 
it  smart." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  Miss  Phaeton 
asked  me  abruptly  :  — 

"You  never  met  him,  did  you  ?  " 

"No." 

A  pause  ensued.  We  passed  the  Duchess  again, 
and  scratched  the  nose  of  her  poodle,  which  was 
looking  out  of  the  carriage  window.  Miss  Phae- 
ton flicked  Rhino,  and  the  groom  behind  went 
plop-plop  on  the  seat. 

"  He  lives  in  town,  you  know,"  remarked  Miss 
Phaeton. 

"  They  mostly  do  —  and  write  about  the  coun- 
try," said   I. 

"  Why  should  n't  they  ?  "  she  asked  fiercely. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Phaeton,  by  all  means  let 
them,"  said  L 

"  He 's  awfully  clever,  you  know,"  she  con- 
tinued ;  "  but  he  would  n't  always  talk.  Some- 
times he  just  sat  and  said  nothin',  or  read  a 
book." 

A  sudden  intuition  discovered  Mr.  Gay's 
feelings  to  me. 

3+ 


THE    PERVERSENESS    OF    IT 

"You  were  talking  about  the  run,  or  something, 
I  suppose  ? " 

"  Yes,  or  the  bag,  you  know." 

As  she  spoke,  she  pulled  up  Ready  and  Rhino. 
The  little  groom  jumped  down  and  stood  under 
(not  at)  their  heads.  I  leant  back  and  surveyed 
the  crowd  sitting  and  walking.  Miss  Phaeton 
flicked  a  fly  off  Rhino's  ear,  put  her  whip  in  the 
socket,  and  leant  back  also. 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  did  n't  care  much  about 
him  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  liked  him  pretty  well,"  she  answered 
very  carelessly. 

At  this  moment,  looking  along  the  walk,  I  saw 
a  man  coming  towards  us.  He  was  a  handsome 
fellow,  with  just  a  touch  of  "  softness  "  in  his  face. 
He  was  dressed  in  correct  fashion,  save  that  his  hair 
was  a  trifle  longer,  his  coat  a  trifle  fuller,  his  hat  a 
trifle  larger,  his  tie  a  trifle  looser  than  they  were  worn 
by  most.  He  caught  my  attention,  and  I  went  on 
looking  at  him  for  a  little  while,  till  a  slight  move- 
ment of  my  companion's  made  me  turn  my  head. 

Miss  Phaeton  was  sitting  bolt  upright :  she 
fidgeted  with  the  reins  ;  she  took  her  whip  out  ot 
the  socket  and  put  it  back  again  ;  and,  to  my 
amazement,  her  cheeks  were  very  red. 

Presently  the  man  came  opposite  the  carriage. 
Miss  Phaeton  bowed.      He  lifted  his  hat,  smiled, 

35 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

and  made  as  if  to  pass  on.  Miss  Phaeton  held 
out  her  hand.  I  could  see  a  momentary  gleam  of 
surprise  in  his  eye,  as  though  he  thought  her  cor- 
diality more  than  he  might  have  looked  for — pos- 
sibly even  more  than  he  cared  about.  But  he 
stopped  and  shook  hands. 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Gay  ?  "  she  said,  not 
introducing  me. 

"  Still  with  your  inseparables  !  "  he  said  gaily, 
with  a  wave  of  his  hand  towards  the  horses.  "  I 
hope,  Miss  Phaeton,  that  in  the  next  world  your 
faithful  steeds  will  be  allowed  to  bear  you  com- 
pany, or  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  think  I  care  for  nothin'  but  horses?" 
said  she,  petulantly,  but  she  leant  towards  him,  and 
gave  me  her  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  laughed.  "  Dogs  also,  and  I'm 
afraid  one  day  it  was  ferrets,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Have — have  you  written  any  poetry  lately?" 
she  asked. 

"  How  conscientious  of  you  to  inquire  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  his  eyes  twinkling.  "  Oh,  yes,  half 
a  hundred  things.  Have  you  —  killed — anything 
lately  ?  " 

I  could  swear  she  flushed  again.  Her  voice 
trembled  as  she  answered, — 

"  No,  not  lately." 

I  caught  sight  of  his  face  behind  her  back,  and  I 
36 


THE    PERVERSENESS    OF    IT 

thought  I  saw  a  trace  of  puzzle  —  nothing  more. 
He  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Well,  so  glad  to  have  seen  you,  Miss  Phaeton," 
said  he,  "  but  I  must  run  on.     Good-by." 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Gay,"  said  she. 

And,  lifting  his  hat  again,  smiling  again  gaily, 
he  was  gone.  For  a  moment  or  two  I  said  noth- 
ing.    Then  I  remarked,  — 

"  So  that 's  your  friend  Gay,  is  it  ?  He  's  not 
a  bad-looking  fellow." 

"  Yes,  that 's  him,"  said  she,  and,  as  she  spoke, 
she  sank  back  in  her  seat  for  a  moment.  I  did 
not  look  at  her  face.  Then  she  sat  up  straight 
again  and  took  the  whip. 

"  Want  to  stay  any  longer  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  said  I. 

The  little  groom  sprang  away,  Rhino  and  Ready 
dashed  ahead. 

"  Shall  I  drop  you  at  the  club  ? "  she  asked. 
"  I  'm  goin'   home." 

"  I  '11  get  out  here,"  said  I. 

We  came  to  a  stand  again,  and  I  got  down. 

"  Good-by,"  I  said. 

She  nodded  at  me,  but  said  nothing.  A  second 
later  the  carriage  was  tearing  down  the  road,  and 
the  little  groom  hanging  on  for  dear  life. 

Of  course  it's  all  nonsense.  She  's  not  the  least 
suited  to   him ;   she  'd  make  him  miserable,  and 

37 


159398 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

then  be  miserable  herself.  But  it  seems  a  little 
perverse,  does  n't  it  ?  In  fact,  twice  at  least  be- 
tween the  courses  at  dinner  I  caught  myself  being 
sorry  for  her.  It  is,  when  you  think  of  it,  so 
remarkably  perverse. 


38 


V 

A    MATTER   OF    DUTY 

lADY  MICKLEHAM  is  back 
from  her  honeymoon.  I  mean 
young  Lady  Mickleham — Dolly 
Foster  (well,  of  course  I  do. 
Fancy  the  Dowager  on  a  honey- 
moon!). She  signified  the  fact 
to  me  by  ordering  me  to  call  on  her  at  tea-time  ; 
she  had,  she  said,  something  which  she  Vv^ished  to 
consult  me  about  confidentially.     I  went. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  back,"  I  observed. 
"  Oh,  we  Ve  been  back  a  fortnight,  but  we  went 
down  to  The  Towers.     They  were  all  there,  Mr. 
Carter." 

"  All  who  ?  " 

"  All  Archie's  people.  The  Dowager  said  we 
must  get  really  to  know  one  another  as  soon  as 
possible.  I  'm  not  sure  I  like  really  knowing 
people.  It  means  that  they  say  whatever  they 
like  to  you,  and  don't  get  up  out  of  your  favourite 
chair  when  you  come  in." 

"I  agree,"  said  I,  "that  a  soup^on  of  unfamil- 
iarity  is  not  amiss." 

39 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Of  course  it 's  nice  to  be  one  of  the  family," 
she  continued. 

"  The  cat  is  that,"  said  I.  "  I  would  not  give 
a  fig  for  it." 

"  And  the  Dowager  taught  me  the  ways  of  the 
house." 

"  Ah,  she  taught  me  the  way  out  of  it." 

"  And  showed  me  how  to  be  most  disagreeable 
to  the  servants." 

"  It  is  the  first  lesson  of  a  housekeeper." 

"  And  told  me  what  Archie  particularly  liked, 
and  how  bad  it  was  for  him,  poor  boy." 

"  What  should  we  do  without  our  mothers  ?  I 
do  not,  however,  see  how  I  can  help  in  all  this, 
Lady  Mickleham." 

"  How  funny  that  sounds !  " 

"  Are  n't  you  accustomed  to  your  dignity  yet?  " 

"  I  meant  from  you^  Mr.  Carter." 

I  smiled.  That  is  Dolly's  way.  As  Miss 
Phaeton  says,  she  means  no  harm,  and  it  is  ad- 
mirably conducive  to  the  pleasure  of  a  tete-a-tete. 

"  It  was  n't  that  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about," 
she  continued,  after  she  had  indulged  in  a  pensive 
sigh  (with  a  dutifully  bright  smile  and  a  glance  at 
Archie's  photograph  to  follow.  Her  behaviour 
always  reminds  me  of  a  varied  and  well-assorted 
menu).  "It  was  about  something  much  more 
difficult.     You  won't  tell  Archie,  will  you  ?  " 

40 


'-|Kl!MMl    L  li  ic  (M-  r    i.   i,r  I  i  r 


7 


y//'t'  ^r'/  you  accustomed  to  your   dignity  yet?" 


A    MATTER    OF    DUTY 

"This  becomes  interesting,"  I  remarked,  put- 
ting my  hat  down. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Carter,  that  before  I  was 
married  —  oh,  how  long  ago  it  seems  !  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Don't  interrupt.  That  before  I  was  married 
I  had  several  —  that  is  to  say,  several  —  well, 
several  —  " 

"  Start  quite  afresh,"  I  suggested  encouragingly. 

"  Well,  then,  several  men  were  silly  enough  to 
think  themselves  —  you  know." 

"  No  one  better,"  I  assented  cheerfully. 

"Oh,  if  you  won't  be  sensible! —  Well,  you 
see,  many  of  them  are  Archie's  friends  as  well  as 
mine  ;  and,  of  course,  they  've  been  to  call." 

"  It  is  but  good  manners,"  said  I. 

"  One  of  them  waited  to  be  sent  for,  though." 

"  Leave  that  fellow  out,"  said  I. 

"  What  I  want  to  ask  you  is  this  —  and  I  be- 
lieve you  're  not  silly,  really,  you  know,  except 
when  you  choose  to  be." 

"  Walk  in  the  Row  any  afternoon,"  said  I,  "  and 
you  won't  find  ten  wiser  men." 

"  It 's  this.     Ought  I  to  tell  Archie  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious  !     Here  's  a  problem  !  " 

"  Of  course,"  pursued  Lady  Mickleham,  open- 
ing her  fan,  "  it 's  in  some  ways  more  comfortable 
that  he  should  n't  know." 

4» 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

«  For  him  ? " 

"  Yes  —  and  for  me.  But  then  it  does  n't  seem 
quite  fair." 

"  To  him  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  and  to  me.  Because  if  he  came  to 
know  from  anybody  else,  he  might  exaggerate  the 
things,  you  know." 

"Impossible  !  " 

"  Mr.  Carter  !  " 

"I  —  er  —  mean  he  knows  you  too  well  to  do 
such  a  thing." 

"  Oh,  I  see.  Thank  you.  Yes.  What  do 
you  think  ?  " 

"  What  does  the  Dowager  say  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  mentioned  it  to  the  Dowager." 

"  But  surely,  on  such  a  point,  her  experience  —  " 

"  She  can't  have  any,"  said  Lady  Mickleham, 
decisively.  "  1  believe  in  her  husband,  because  I 
must.  But  nobody  else  !  You  're  not  giving  me 
your  opinion." 

I  reflected  for  a  moment. 

"  Have  n't  we  left  out  one  point  of  view  ?  "  I 
ventured  to  suggest. 

"  I  've  thought  it  all  over  very  carefully,"  said 
she ;  "  both  as  it  would  affect  me  and  as  it  would 
affect  Archie." 

"  Quite  so.  Now  suppose  you  think  how  it 
would  affect  them  !  " 

42 


A    MATTER    OF    DUTY 

"Who?" 

"Why,  the  men." 

Lady  Mickleham  put  down  her  cup  of  tea. 

"  What  a  very  curious  idea  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Give  it  time  to  sink  in,"  said  I,  helping  my- 
self to  another  piece  of  toast. 

She  sat  silent  for  a  few  moments  —  presumably 
to  allow  of  the  permeation  I  suggested.  I  finished 
my  tea  and  leant  back  comfortably.  Then  I 
said, : — 

"  Let  me  take  my  own  case.  Should  n't  I  feel 
rather  awkward  —  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it 's  no  good  taking  your  case,"  she 
interrupted. 

"  Why  not  mine  as  well  as  another?  '* 

"  Because  I  told  him  about  you  long  ago." 

I  was  not  surprised.  But  I  could  not  permit 
Lady  Mickleham  to  laugh  at  me  in  the  uncon- 
scionable manner  in  which  she  proceeded  to  laugh. 
I  spread  out  my  hands  and  observed  blandly,  — 

"  Why  not  be  guided  —  as  to  the  others,  I 
mean  —  by  your  husband's  example  ?  " 

"  Archie's  example  ?     What 's  that  ?  " 

"I  don't  know;  but  you  do,  I  suppose." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Carter  ?  "  she  asked, 
sitting  upright. 

"  Well,  has  he  ever  told  you  about  Maggie 
Adeane  ? " 

43 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  never  heard  of  her." 

"  Or  Lilly  Courtenay  ?  " 

"  That  girl  !  " 

"Or  Alice  Lay  ton?" 

"  The  red-haired  Layton  ?  " 

"  Or  Florence  Cunliffe  ?  " 

"  Who  was  she  ?  " 

"Or  Millie  Trehearne?" 

"  She  squints,  Mr.  Carter." 

"Or  —  " 

"  Stop,  stop !  What  do  you  mean  ?  What 
should  he  tell   me?" 

"  Oh,  I  see  he  has  n't.  Nor,  I  suppose,  about 
Sylvia  Fenton,  or  that  little  Delancy  girl,  or  hand- 
some Miss  —  what  was  her  name  ?  " 

"Hold  your  tongue  —  and  tell  me  what  you 
mean." 

"  Lady  Mickleham,"  said  I,  gravely,  "  if  your 
husband  has  not  thought  fit  to  mention  these 
ladies  —  and  others  whom  I  could  name  —  to  you, 
how  could  I  presume  —  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Archie  —  ?  " 

"  He  'd  only  known  you  three  years,  you  see." 

"  Then  it  was  before  —  ?  " 

"Some  of  them  were  before,"  said  L 

Lady  Mickleham  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Archie  will  be  in  soon,"  said  she. 

I  took  my  hat. 

44 


A    MATTER    OF    DUTY 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  I  observed,  "  that  what  is 
sauce — that,  I  should  say,  husband  and  wife 
ought  to  stand  on  an  equal  footing  in  these 
matters.  Since  he  has  —  no  doubt  for  good 
reasons  —  not  mentioned  to  you  — " 

"  Alice  Layton  was  a  positive  fright." 

"  She  came  last,"  said  T.  "  Just  before  you, 
you  know.      However,  as   I  was  saying — " 

"  And  that  horrible  Sylvia  Fenton —  " 

"  Oh,  he  could  n't  have  known  you  long  then. 
As  I  was  saying,  I  should,  if  I  were  you,  treat  him 
as  he  has  treated  you.  In  my  case  it  seems  to  be 
too  late." 

"  I  'm  sorry  I  told  him  that." 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  mind,  it's  of  no  consequence. 
As  to  the  others  — " 

"  I  should  never  have  thought  it  of  Archie  !  " 

"  One  never  knows,"  said  I,  with  an  apologetic 
smile.     "  I  don't  suppose  he  thinks  it  of  you." 

"  I  won't  tell  him  a  single  word.  He  may  find 
out  if  he  likes.  Who  was  the  last  girl  you 
mentioned  ?  " 

"  Is  it  any  use  trying  to  remember  all  their 
names  ?  "  I  asked  in  a  soothing  tone.  "No  doubt 
he  's  forgotten  them  by  now  — just  as  you  've 
forgotten  the  others." 

"  And  the  Dowager  told  me  that  he  had  never 
had  an  attachment  before." 

45 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,  if  the  Dowager  said  that  !  Of  course, 
the  Dowager  would  know  !  " 

"  Don't  be  so  silly,  for  goodness'  sake  !  Are 
you  going  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  am.  It  might  annoy  Archie  to 
find  me  here  when  he  wants  to  talk  to  you." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  talk  to  him." 

"  Of  course  you  won't  repeat  what  I  've  —  " 

"  I  shall  find  out  for  myself,"  she  said. 

"  Good-by.  I  hope  I  've  removed  all  your 
troubles  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  thank  you.  I  know  what  to  do 
now,  Mr.   Carter." 

"  Always  send  for  me  if  you  're  in  any  trouble. 
I  have  some  exp  —  " 

"  Good-by,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  Good-by,  Lady  Mickleham.  And  remember 
that  Archie,  like  you  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes;   I  know.      Must  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  must,  I  've  enjoyed  our  talk 
so  — 

"  There  's  Archie's  step." 

I  left  the  room.  On  the  stairs  I  met  Archie. 
I  shook  hands  sympathetically.  I  was  sorry  for 
Archie.  But  in  great  causes  the  individual  cannot 
be  considered.      I  had  done  my  duty  to  my  sex. 


46 


VI 


MY   LAST    CHANCE 


'OW    mind,"    said     Mrs.     Hilary 
Musgrave,  impressively,  "  this  is 
the    last   time    I    shall    take    any 
trouble  about  you.     She  's  a  very 
nice  girl,  quite  pretty,  and  she  '11 
have   a   lot  of  money.     You  can 
be  very  pleasant  when  you  like  —  " 
"  This  unsolicited  testimonial  —  " 
"  Which   is  n't  often  —  and  if  you  don't  do  it 
this  time  I  wash  my  hands  of  you.     Why,  how 
old  are  you  ?" 

"  Hush,  Mrs.  Hilary." 
"  You  must  be  nearly  —  " 
"  It 's  false  —  false  —  false  !  " 
"  Come    along,"    said     Mrs.    Hilary,    and    she 
added,  over  her  shoulder,  "  she  has  a  slight  north- 
country  accent." 

"  It  might  have  been  Scotch,"  said  I. 
"  She  plays  the  piano  a  good  deal." 
"  It  might  have  been  the  fiddle,"  said  I. 
"  She  's  very  fond  of  Browning." 
"  It  might  have  been  Ibsen,"  said  I. 
47 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Mrs.  Hilary,  seeing  that  I  was  determined  to 
look  on  the  bright  side,  smiled  graciously  on  me 
and  introduced  me  to  the  young  lady.  She  was 
decidedly  good-looking,  fresh  and  sincere  of  aspect, 
with  large  inquiring  eyes  —  eyes  which  I  felt  would 
demand  a  little  too  much  of  me  at  breakfast  — but 
then  a  large  tea-urn  puts  that  all  right. 

"  Miss  Sophia  Milton  —  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary,  and  left  us. 

Well,  we  tried  the  theatres  first ;  but  as  she 
had  only  been  to  the  Lyceum  and  I  had  only  been 
to  the  Gaiety,  we  soon  got  to  the  end  of  that. 
Then  we  tried  Art :  she  asked  me  what  I  thought 
of  Degas  :  I  evaded  the  question  by  criticising  a 
drawing  of  a  horse  in  last  week's  "  Punch  "  —  which 
she  had  n't  seen.  Upon  this  she  started  literature. 
She  said  "  Some  Qualms  and  a  Shiver  "  was  the 
book  of  the  season.  I  put  my  money  on  "  The 
Queen  of  the  Quorn."  Dead  stop  again  !  And 
I  saw  Mrs.  Hilary's  eye  upon  me :  there  was 
wrath  in  her  face.     Something  must  be  done. 

A  brilliant  idea  seized  me.  I  had  read  that 
four-fifths  of  the  culture  of  England  were  Con- 
servative. I  also  was  a  Conservative.  It  was 
four  to  one  on  !  I  started  politics.  I  could 
have  whooped  for  joy  when  I  elicited  some- 
thing particularly  incisive  about  the  ignorance 
of  the   masses. 

48 


MY    LAST    CHANCE 

"  I  do  hope  you  agree  with  me,"  said  Miss 
Milton.  "  The  more  one  reads  and  thinks,  the 
more  one  sees  how  fatally  false  a  theory  it  is  that 
the  ignorant  masses  —  people  such  as  I  have  de- 
scribed —  can  ever  rule  a  great  Empire." 

"  The  Empire  wants  gentlemen ;  that 's  what 
it  wants,"  said  I,  nodding  my  head,  and  glancing 
triumphantly  at  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Men  and  women,"  said  she,  "  who  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  best  that  has  been  said  and 
thought  on  all  important  subjects." 

At  the  time  I  believed  this  observation  to  be 
original,  but  I  have  since  been  told  that  it  was 
borrowed.     I  was  delighted  with  it. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  and  have  got  a  stake  in  the 
country,  you  know,  and  know  how  to  behave 
'emselves  in  the   House,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  What  we  have  to  do,"  pursued  Miss  Milton, 
"  is  to  guide  the  voters.  These  poor  rustics  need 
to  be  informed  —  " 

"Just  so,"  I  broke  in.  "They  have  to  be 
told—" 

"  Of  the  real  nature  of  the  questions  —  " 

"  And  which  candidate  to  support." 

"  Or  they  must  infallibly  —  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Get  their  marching  orders,"  I  cried,  in  rapture. 
It  was  exactly  what  I  always  did  on  my  small 
property. 

4  49 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,  I  did  n't  quite  mean  that,"  she  said  re- 
proachfully. 

"  Oh,  well,  neither  did  I  —  quite,"  I  responded 
adroitly.     What  was  wrong  with  the  girl  now  ? 

"  But  with  the  help  of  the  League  —  "  she  went 
on, 

"  Do  you  belong  ? "  I  cried,  more  delighted 
than  ever. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  she.  "  I  think  it 's  a  duty. 
I  worked  very  hard  at  the  last  election.  I  spent 
days  distributing  packages  of —  " 

Then  I  made,  I  'm  sorry  to  say,  a  false  step. 
I  observed,  interrupting,  — 

"  But  it 's  ticklish  work  now,  eh  ?  Six  months' 
*  hard  '  would  n't  be  pleasant,  would  it  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  Mr. — er  —  Carter?" 
she  asked. 

I  was  still  blind.  I  believe  I  winked,  and  I  *m 
sure  I  whispered,  "  Tea.'^ 

Miss  Milton  drew  herself  up  very  straight. 

"  I  do  not  brihe^''  she  said.  "  What  I  distribute 
is  pamphlets." 

Now,  I  suppose  that  "  pamphlets  "  and  "  blank- 
ets "  don't  really  sound  much  alike,  but  I  was 
agitated. 

"  Quite  right,"  said  L  "  Poor  old  things  ! 
They  can't  afford  proper  fuel." 

She  rose  to  her  feet. 

5° 


MY    LAST    CHANCE 

"  I  was  not  joking,"  she  said  with  horrible 
severity. 

"  Neither  was  I,"  I  declared  in  humble  apology. 
"  Did  n't  you  say  '  blankets  '  ?  " 

"  Pamphlets^ 

"Oh!" 

There  was  a  long  pause.  I  glanced  at  Mrs. 
Hilary.  Things  had  not  fallen  out  as  happily 
as  they  rnight,  but  I  did  not  mean  to  give  up  yet. 

"  I  see  you  're  right,"  I  said,  still  humbly. 
"  To  descend  to  such  means  as  I  had  in  my 
mind  is  —  " 

"  To  throw  away  our  true  weapons,"  said  she, 
earnestly.     (She  sat  down  again  —  good  sign.) 

"  What  we  really  need  —  "I  began. 

"  Is  a  reform  of  the  upper  classes,"  said  she. 
"  Let  them  give  an  example  of  duty,  of  self-denial, 
of  frugahty." 

I  was  not  to  be  caught  out  again. 

"  Just  what  I  always  say,"  I  observed  im- 
pressively. 

"  Let  them  put  away  their  horse-racing,  their 
betting,  their  luxurious  living,  their  —  " 

"  You  're  right.  Miss  Milton,"  said  L 

"  Let  them  set  an  example  of  moraHty." 

"  They  should,"  I  assented. 

Miss  Milton  smiled. 

"  I  thought  we  agreed  really,"  said  she. 
51 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  'm  sure  we  do,"  cried  I ;  and  I  winked  with 
my  "  off"  eye  at  Mrs.  Hilary  as  I  sat  down  be- 
side Miss  Milton. 

"  Now  1  heard  of  a  man  the  other  day,"  said 
she,  "  who  's  nearly  forty.  He  's  got  an  estate  in 
the  country.  He  never  goes  there,  except  for  a 
few  days' shooting.  He  lives  in  town.  He  spends 
too  much.  He  passes  an  absolutely  vacant  ex- 
istence in  a  round  of  empty  gaiety.  He  has  by 
no  means  a  good  reputation.  He  dangles  about, 
wasting  his  time  and  his  money.  Is  that  the  sort 
of  example  —  ?  " 

"  He's  a  traitor  to  his  class,"  said  I,  warmly. 

"  If  you  want  him,  you  must  look  on  a  race- 
course, or  at  a  tailor's,  or  in  some  fashionable 
woman's  boudoir.  And  his  estate  looks  after 
itself.  He 's  too  selfish  to  marry,  too  idle  to 
work,  too  silly  to  think." 

I  began  to  be  sorry  for  this  man;,  in  spite  of  his 
peccadilloes. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  've  met  him,"  said  I.  "  I  'm 
occasionally  in  town,  when  I  can  get  time  to  run 
up.     What 's  his  name  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  heard  —  or  I  've  forgotten. 
But  he  's  got  the  place  next  to  a  friend  of  mine  in 
the  country,  and  she  told  me  all  about  him.  She  's 
exactly  the  opposite  sort  of  person  —  or  she 
would  n't  be  my  friend." 

52 


MY    LAST    CHANCE 

"  I  should  think  not.  Miss  Milton,"  said  I, 
admiringly. 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  meet  that  man,  and  tell 
him  what  I  think  of  him  !  "  said  she.  "  Such  men 
as  he  is  do  more  harm  than  a  dozen  agitators.  So 
contemptible,  too  !  " 

"  It's  revolting  to  think  of,"  said  I. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  —  "  began  Miss  Milton  quite 
confidentially;  I  pulled  my  chair  a  trifle  closer,  and 
cast  an  apparently  careless  glance  towards  Mrs. 
Hilary.     Suddenly  I  heard  a  voice  behind  me. 

"  Eh,  what .?  Upon  my  honour  it  is  !  Why, 
Carter,  my  boy,  how  are  you  ?  Eh,  what?  Miss 
Milton,  too,  I  declare  !  Well,  now,  what  a  pity 
Annie  did  n't  come  !  " 

I  disagreed.  I  hate  Annie.  But  I  was  very  glad 
to  see  my  friend  and  neighbour,  Robert  Dinnerly. 
He 's  a  sensible  man  —  his  wife  's  a  little  prig. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dinnerly,"  cried  Miss  Milton,  "  how 
funny  that  you  should  come  just  now !  I  was 
just  trying  to  remember  the  name  of  a  man  Mrs. 
Dinnerly  told  me  about.  I  was  telling  Mr.  Carter 
about  him.     You  know  him." 

"  Well,  Miss  Milton,  perhaps  I  do.  Describe 
him." 

"  1  don't  believe  Annie  ever  told  me  his  name, 
but  she  was  talking  about  him  at  our  house 
yesterday." 

53 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  But  I  was  n't  there,  Miss  Milton." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Milton,  "  but  he 's  got  the 
next  place  to  yours  in  the  country." 

I  positively  leapt  from  my  seat. 

"  Why,  good  gracious.  Carter  himself,  you 
mean  !  "  cried  Dinnerly,  laughing.  "  Well,  that 
is  a  good  'un  —  ha-ha-ha  !  " 

She  turned  a  stony  glare  on  me. 

"  Do  you  live  next  to  Mr.  Dinnerly  in  the 
country  ?  "  she  asked. 

I  would  have  denied  it  if  Dinnerly  had  not 
been  there.     As  it  was  I  blew  my  nose. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Miss  Milton,  "  what  has 
become  of  Aunt  Emily." 

"  Miss  Milton,"  said  I,  "  by  a  happy  chance 
you  have  enjoyed  a  luxury.  You  have  told  the 
man  what  you  think  of  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  she ;  "  and  1  have  only  to  add  that 
he  is  also  a  hypocrite." 

Pleasant,  was  n't  it  ?  Yet  Mrs.  Hilary  says  it 
was  my  fault !     That 's  a  woman  all  over ! 


54 


VII 

THE    LITTLE   WRETCH! 

jEEING  that  little  Johnny  Tomp- 
kins was  safely  out  of  the  country, 
under  injunctions  to  make  a  new 
man  of  himself,  and  to  keep  that 
new  man,  when  made,  at  the 
Antipodes,  I  could  not  see  any- 
thing indiscreet  in  touching  on  the  matter  in  the 
course  of  conversation  with  Mrs.  Hilary  Mus- 
grave.  In  point  of  fact,  I  was  curious  to  find  out 
what  she  knew,  and,  supposing  she  knew,  what 
she  thought.  So  I  mentioned  little  Johnny 
Tompkins. 

"  Oh,  the  little  wretch !  "  cried  Mrs.  Hilary. 
"  You  know  he  came  here  two  or  three  times  ? 
Anybody  can  impose  on   Hilary." 

"  Happy  woman  !  I  —  I  mean  unhappy  man, 
Mrs.   Hilary." 

"  And  how  much  was  it  he  stole  ?  " 
"Hard  on  a  thousand,"  said  I.      "  For  a  time, 
you  know,  he  was  quite  a  man  of  fashion." 

"  Oh,  I  know.  He  came  here  in  his  own  han- 
som, perfectly  dressed,  and  —  " 

55 


THE    r  )LLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Behaved  all  right,  did  n't  he  ?  " 

"Yes.     Of  course  there  was  a  somethino;." 

"Or  you  wouldn't  have  been  deceived!"  said 
I,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  was  n't  deceived,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  an 
admirable  flush  appearing  on  her  cheeks. 

"That  is  to  say,  Hilary  would  n't." 

"  Oh,  Hilary  !  Why  did  n't  his  employers 
prosecute  him,   Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"In  the  first  place,  he  had  that  inestimable 
advantage  in  a  career  of  dishonesty,  —  respectable 
relations." 

"Well,  but  still  —  " 

"  His  widowed  mother  was  a  trump,  you  know." 

"Do  you  mean  a  good  woman?" 

"  Doubtless  she  was  ;  but  I  meant  a  good  card. 
However,  there  was  another  reason." 

"I  can't  see  any,"  declared  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"I  'm  going  to  surprise  you,"  said  I.  "  Hilary 
interceded  for  him," 

"Hilary?" 

"You  did  n't  know  it?  I  thought  not.  Well, 
he  did." 

"Why,  he  always  pretended  to  want  him  to  be 
convicted." 

"Cunning  Hilary!"  said  I. 

"He  used  to  speak  most  strongly  against  him." 

"That  was  his  guile,"  said  I. 
S6 


THE    LITTLE    W:)ETCH! 

"Oh,  but  why  in  the  world  —  ?"  she  began; 
then  she  paused,  and  went  on  again:  "It  was 
nothing  to  do  with   Hilary." 

"  Hilary  went  with  me  to  see  him,  you  know, 
while  they  had  him  under  lock  and  key  at  the 
firm's  offices." 

"Did  he?     I  never  heard  that." 

"And  he  was  much  impressed  with  his  bearing." 

"  Well,  I  suppose,  Mr.  Carter,  that  if  he  was 
really  penitent — " 

"Never  saw  a  man  less  penitent,"  I  interrupted. 
"He  gloried  in  his  crime;  if  I  remember  his  exact 
expression,  it  was  that  the  jam  was  jolly  well  worth 
the  powder,  and  if  they  liked  to  send  him  to  cho- 
kee,  they  could  and  be  —  and  suffer  accordingly, 
you  know." 

"And  after  that,  Hilary  — !" 

"Oh,  anybody  can  impose  on  Hilary,  you 
know.     Hilary  only  asked  what  'the  jam'  was." 

"It's  a  horrid  expression,  but  I  suppose  it 
meant  acting  the  part  of  a  gentleman,  did  n't  it?" 

"  Not  entirely.  According  to  what  he  told 
Hilary,  Johnny  was  in  love." 

"Oh,  and  he  stole  for  some  wretched  —  ?" 

"Now,  do  be  careful.  What  do  you  know 
about  the  lady?" 

"The  lady!  I  can  imagine  Johnny  Tompkins' 
ideal!" 

57 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"So  can  I,  if  you  come  to  that." 

"And  she  must  have  known  his  money  was  n't 
his  own." 

"Why  must  she.?"  I  asked.  "According  to 
what  he  told  Hilary,  she  did  n't." 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  with 
decision. 

"Hilary  believed  it!" 

"Oh,  Hilary!" 

"But  then,  Hilary  knew  the  girl." 

"Hilary  knew — !  You  mean  to  say  Hilary 
knew  —  ?" 

"No  one  better,"  said  I,  composedly. 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose  to  her  feet. 

"Who  was  the  creature?"  she  asked  sharply. 

"Come,"  I  expostulated,  "how  would  you  like 
it,  if  your  young  man  had  taken  to  theft,  and  —  " 

"  Oh,  nonsense.  Tell  me  her  name,  please, 
Mr.  Carter." 

"Johnny  told  Hilary  that  just  to  see  her  and 
talk  to  her  and  sit  by  her  was  '  worth  all  the 
money '  —  but,  then,  to  be  sure,  it  was  somebody 
else's  money  —  and  that  he'd  do  it  again  to  get 
what  he  had  got  over  again.  Then,  I  'm  sorry  to 
say,  he  swore." 

"  And  Hilary  believed  that  stuff?  " 

"  Hilary  agreed  with  him,"  said  L  "  Hilary, 
you  see,  knows  the  lady." 

58 


THE    LITTLE    WRETCH! 

"  What 's  her  name,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  Did  n't  you  notice  his  attentions  to  any  one?" 

"  I  notice !   You  don't  mean  that  I  've  seen  her?  " 

"  Certainly  you  have." 

"Was  she  ever  here?" 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Hilary.     Hilary  takes  care  of  that." 

"  I  shall  be  angry  in  a  minute,  Mr.  Carter.  Oh, 
I  '11  have  this  out  of  Hilary  ! " 

"  I  should." 

"Who  was  she?" 

"According  to  what  he  told  Hilary,  she  was  the 
most  fascinating  woman  in  the  world.  Hilary 
thought  so,  too." 

Mrs.  Hilary  began  to  walk  up  and  down. 

"  Oh,  so  Hilary  helped  to  let  him  go,  because 
they  both  —  ?" 

"Precisely,"  said  I. 

"And  you  dare  to  come  and  tell  me?" 

"Well,  I  thought  you  ought  to  know,"  said  L 
"Hilary's  just  as  mad  about  her  as  Johnny  —  in 
fact,  he  said  he  'd  be  hanged  if  he  would  n't  have 
done  the  same  himself" 

I  have  once  seen  Madame  Ristori  play  Lady 
Macbeth.  Her  performance  was  recalled  to  me 
by  the  tones  in  which   Mrs.   Hilary  asked  : 

"  Who  is  this  woman,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Carter? " 

"So  Hilary  got  him  off — gave  him  fifty 
pounds  too." 

59 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Glad  to  get  him  away,  perhaps,"  she  burst  out, 
in  angry  scorn. 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  said  I.     "  Perhaps." 

"Her  name  .^  "  demanded  Lady  Macbeth  —  I 
mean  Mrs.  Hilary  —  again. 

"  I  shan't  tell  you,  unless  you  promise  to  say 
nothing  to  Hilary." 

"  To  say  nothing  !     Well,  really  —  " 

"  Oh,  all  right !  "  and  I  took  up  my  hat. 

"  But  I  can  watch  them,  can't  1  ^  " 

"  As  much  as  you  like." 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  If  you  promise." 

"  Well,  then,  I  promise." 

"  Look  in  the  glass." 

"What  for?" 

"  To  see  your  face,  to  be  sure." 

She  started,  blushed  red,  and  moved  a  step 
towards  me. 

"  You  don't  mean  —  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  Thou  art  the  woman,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  but  he  never  said  a  word  —  " 

"Johnny  had  his  code,"  said  I.  "And  in  some 
ways  it  was  better  than  some  people's,  —  in  some, 
alas  !  worse." 

"And  Hilary?" 

"  Really  you  know  better  than  I  do  whether 
I  've  told  the  truth  about  Hilary." 

60 


THE    LITTLE    WRETCH! 

A  pause  ensued.     Then  Mrs.  Hilary  made  three 
short  remarks,  which  I  give  in  their  order  :  — 
(i)  "The  httle  wretch  !" 

(2)  "  Dear  old  Hilary  !  " 

(3)  "  Poor  little  man  !  " 

I  took  my  hat.  I  knew  that  Hilary  was  due 
from  the  City  in  a  few  minutes.  Mrs.  Hilary  sat 
down  by  the  fire. 

"  How  dare  you  torment  me  so  .^  "  she  asked, 
but  not  in  the  least  like  Lady  Macbeth. 

"  I  must  have  my  little  amusements,"  said  L 

"  What  an  audacious  little  creature !  "  said 
Mrs.  Hilary.  "  Fancy  his  daring  !  —  Are  n't  you 
astounded  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am.      But  Hilary,  you  see  —  " 

"  It 's  nearly  his  time,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

I  buttoned  my  left  glove  and  held  out  my  right 
hand. 

"  I  've  a  good  mind  not  to  shake  hands  with 
you,"  said  she.     "  Was  n't  it  absurd  of  Hilary  ?  " 

"  Horribly." 

"  He  ought  to  have  been  all  the  more  angry." 

"  Of  course  he  ought." 

"  The  presumption  of  it !  "  And  Mrs.  Hilary 
smiled.      I  also  smiled. 

"  That  poor  old  mother  of  his,"  reflected  Mrs. 
Hilary.     "  Where  did  you  say  she  lived  ?  " 

"  Hilary  knows  the  address,"  said  L 
61 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Silly  little  wretch  !  "  mused  Mrs.  Hilary,  still 
smiling. 

"  Good-by,"  said  L 

"  Good-by,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

I  turned  towards  the  door  and  had  laid  my  hand 
on  the  knob,  when  Mrs.  Hilary  called  softly,  — 

"  Mr.  Carter." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  turning. 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  little  wretch  has 
gone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  I. 

"I  —  I  suppose  you  don't  ever  write  to  him  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  no,"  said  I. 

"  But  you  —  could  .^"  suggested  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Of  course,"  said  I. 

She  jumped  up  and  ran  towards  me.  Her  purse 
was  in  one  hand,  and  a  bit  of  paper  fluttered  in  the 
other. 

"  Send  him  that  —  don't  tell  him,"  she  whispered, 
and  her  voice  had  a  little  catch  in  it.  "  Poor  little 
wretch  !  "  said  she. 

As  for  me,  I  smiled  cynically  —  quite  cynically, 
you  know  :  for  it  was  very  absurd. 

"  Please  go,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

And  I  went. 

Supposing  it  had  been  another  woman  !  Well, 
I  wonder  1 


62 


VIII 

AN    EXPENSIVE   PRIVILEGE 

®«^^l^^^^  RATHER  uncomfortable  thing 
(g^^g^^gg^j  happened  the  other  day  which 
^M  A  ^^S  threatened  a  schism  in  my  ac- 
^H^^J^^S  quaintance  and  put  me  in  a  de- 
^^^^^^S  cidedly  awkward  position.  It  was 
i^^^^^^SI  no  other  than  this :  Mrs.  Hilary 
Musgrave  had  definitely  informed  me  that  she  did 
not  approve  of  Lady  Mickleham.  The  attitude 
is,  no  doubt,  a  conceivable  one,  but  I  was  sur- 
prised that  a  woman  of  Mrs.  Hilary's  large  sym- 
pathies should  adopt  it.  Besides,  Mrs.  Hilary  is 
quite  good-looking  herself 

The  history  of  the  affair  is  much  as  follows  :  I 
called  on  Mrs.  Hilary  to  see  whether  I  could  do 
anything,  and  she  told  me  all  about  it.  It  appears 
that  Mrs.  Hilary  had  a  bad  cold  and  a  cousin  up 
from  the  country  about  the  same  time  (she  was 
justly  aggrieved  at  the  double  event),  and,  being 
unable  to  go  to  the  Duchess  of  Dexminster's 
"  squash,"  she  asked  Dolly  Mickleham  to  chap- 
eron little   Miss  Phyllis.     Little  Miss  Phyllis,  of 

63 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

course,  knew  no  one  there,  —  the  Duchess  least  of 
all  (but  then  very  few  of  us  —  yes,  I  was  there 
—  knew  the  Duchess,  and  the  Duchess  did  n't 
know  any  of  us ;  I  saw  her  shake  hands  with  a 
waiter  myself,  just  to  be  on  the  safe  side),  —  and  an 
hour  after  the  party  began,  she  was  discovered 
wandering  about  in  a  most  desolate  condition. 
Dolly  had  told  her  that  she  would  be  in  a  certain 
place;  and  when  Miss  Phyllis  came  Dolly  was 
not  there.  The  poor  little  lady  wandered  about  for 
another  hour,  looking  so  lost  that  one  was  inclined 
to  send  for  a  policeman  ;  and  then  she  sat  down 
on  a  seat  by  the  wall,  and  in  desperation  asked 
her  next-door  neighbour  if  he  knew  Lady  Mickle- 
ham  by  sight,  and  had  he  seen  her  lately.  The 
next-door  neighbour,  by  way  of  reply,  called  out 
to  a  quiet  elderly  gentleman  who  was  sidling  un- 
obtrusively about,  "  Duke,  are  there  any  particu- 
larly snug  corners  in  your  house  ?  "  The  Duke 
stopped,  searched  his  memory,  and  said  that  at  the 
end  of  the  Red  Corridor  there  was  a  passage  ;  and 
that  a  few  yards  down  the  passage,  if  you  turned 
very  suddenly  to  the  right,  you  would  come  on  a 
little  nook  under  the  stairs.  The  little  nook  just 
held  a  settee,  and  the  settee  (the  Duke  thought) 
might  just  hold  two  people.  The  next-door  neigh- 
bour thanked  the  Duke,  and  observed  to  Miss 
Phyllis,— 

64 


AN    EXPENSIVE    PRIVILEGE 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  take  you  to 
Lady  Mickleham."  So  they  went,  it  being  then, 
according  to  Miss  Phyllis's  sworn  statement,  pre- 
cisely two  hours  and  five  minutes  since  Dolly  had 
disappeared ;  and,  pursuing  the  route  indicated  by 
the  Duke,  they  found  Lady  Mickleham.  And 
Lady  Mickleham  exclaimed,  "  Good  gracious,  my 
dear,  I  'd  quite  forgotten  you !  Have  you  had 
an  ice  ?  Do  take  her  to  have  an  ice.  Sir  John." 
(Sir  John  Berry  was  the  next-door  neighbour.) 
And  with  that  Lady  Mickleham  is  said  to  have 
resumed  her  conversation. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  more  atrocious  ?  " 
concluded  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  I  really  cannot  think 
what  Lord  Mickleham  is  doing." 

"  You  surely  mean,  what  Lady  Mickleham  —  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  with  extra- 
ordinary decision.  "  Anything  might  have  hap- 
pened to  that  poor  child." 

"  Oh,  there  were  not  many  of  the  aristocracy 
present,"  said  I,  soothingly. 

"  But  it 's  not  that  so  much,  as  the  thing  itself. 
She  's  the  most  disgraceful  flirt  in  London." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  was  flirting  ?  "  I  in- 
quired with  a  smile. 

"  How  do  I  know?  "  echoed  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  It  is  a  very  hasty  conclusion,"  I  persisted. 
"  Sometimes  I  stay  talking  with  you  for  an 
5  6s 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

hour    or  more.     Are  you,  therefore,  flirting  with 
mer 

"  With  you  I  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hilary,  with  a 
little  laugh. 

"  Absurd  as  the  supposition  is,"  I  remarked, 
"  it  yet  serves  to  point  the  argument.  Lady 
Mickleham  might  have  been  talking  with  a  friend 
just  in  the  quiet,  rational  way  in  which  we  are 
talking  now." 

"  I  don't  think  that 's  Hkely,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary  ; 
and  —  well,  I  do  not  like  to  say  that  she  sniffed  — 
it  would  convey  too  strong  an  idea,  but  she  did 
make  an  odd  little  sound  something  like  a  much 
etherealised  sniff. 

I  smiled  again,  and  more  broadly.  I  was  en- 
joying beforehand  the  little  victory  which  I  was 
to  enjoy  over  Mrs.   Hilary. 

"Yet  it  happens  to  be  true,"  said  L 

Mrs.  Hilary  was  magnificently  contemptuous. 

"  Lord  Mickleham  told  you  so,  I  suppose  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  And  I  suppose  Lady  Mickleham 
told  him  —  poor  man  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  call  him  *  poor  man  '  ?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind.     Did  he  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  The  fact  is,  Mrs.  Hilary  — 
and  really,  you  must  excuse  me  for  having  kept 
you  in  the  dark  a  little  —  it  amused  me  so  much 
to  hear  your  suspicions." 

66 


--i..«,  l]  fUjltl-tjlK'SiVf 


s^yr 


"  H'hy,  I  was  the  man  with   Lady    Mickleham'''' 


AN    EXPENSIVE    PRIVILEGE 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  say  ?  "  she  asked. 

I  laughed,  as  I  answered,  — 

"  Why,  I  was  the  man  with  Lady  Mickleham 
when  your  friend  and  Berry  inter  —  when  they 
arrived,  you  know." 

Well,  I  should  have  thought  —  I  should  still 
think  —  that  she  would  have  been  pleased  —  re- 
lieved, you  know  —  to  find  her  uncharitable  opinion 
erroneous,  and  pleased  to  have  it  altered  on  the 
best  authority.  I  'm  sure  that  is  how  I  should 
have  felt.  It  was  not,  however,  how  Mrs.  Hilary 
felt. 

"  I  am  deeply  pained,"  she  observed  after  a  long 
pause  ;  and  then  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  was  sure  you  'd  forgive  my  little  deception," 
said  I,  grasping  it.  I  thought  still  that  she  meant 
to  bury  all  unkindness. 

"I  should  never  have  thought  it  of  you,"  she 
went  on. 

"  I  did  n't  know  your  friend  was  there  at  all," 
I  pleaded  ;  for  by  now  I  was  alarmed. 

"  Oh,  please  don't  shuffle  like  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

She  continued  to  stand,  and  I  rose  to  my  feet. 
Mrs.   Hilary  held  out  her  hand  again. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  'm  to  go  ?  "  said  L 

"  I  hope  we  shall  see  you  again  some  day,"  said 
G^ 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

Mrs.  Hilary ;  the  tone  suggested  that  she  was 
looking  forward  to  some  future  existence,  when 
my  earthly  sins  should  have  been  sufficiently 
purged.  It  reminded  me  for  the  moment  of  King 
Arthur  and  Queen  Guinevere. 

"  But  I  protest,"  I  began,  "  that  my  only  object 
in  telling  you  was  to  show  you  how  absurd —  " 

"  Is  it  any  good  talking  about  it  now  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Hilary.  A  discussion  might  possibly  be 
fruitful  in  the  dim  futurity  before  mentioned  — 
but  not  now  —  that  was  what  she  seemed  to  say. 

"  Lady  Mickleham  and  I,  on  the  occasion  in 
question  —  "I   began,  with  dignity. 

"  Pray  spare  me,"  quoth  Mrs.  Hilary,  with 
much  greater  dignity. 

I  took  my  hat. 

"  Shall  you  be  at  home  as  usual  on  Thursday  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  I  have  a  great  many  people  coming  already," 
she  remarked. 

"  I  can  take  a  hint,"  said  I. 

"  I  wish  you  'd  take  warning,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  I  will  take  my  leave,"  said  I  ;  and  I  did, 
leaving  Mrs.  Hilary  in  a  tragic  attitude  in  the 
middle  of  the  room.  Never  again  shall  I  go  out 
of  my  way  to  lull  Mrs.  Hilary's  suspicions. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  very  trying  interview, 
Lady    Mickleham's    victoria    happened    to     stop 

68 


AN    EXPENSIVE    PRIVILEGE 

opposite  where  I  was  seated  in  the  park.      I  went 
to  pay  my  respects. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  leave  me  nothing  in  the 
world,"  I  asked,  just  by  way  of  introducing  the 
subject  of  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  One  of  my  best  friends 
has  turned  me  out  of  her  house  on  your  account." 

"  Oh,  do  tell  me,"  said  Dolly,  dimpling  all 
over  her  face. 

So  I  told  her  ;  I  made  the  story  as  long  as  I 
could  for  reasons  connected  with  the  dimples. 

"  What  fun  !  "  exclaimed  Dolly.  "  I  told  you 
at  the  time  that  a  young  unmarried  person  like 
you  ought  to  be  more  careful." 

"  I  am  just  debating,"  I  observed,  "  whether 
to  sacrifice  you." 

"To  sacrifice  me,  Mr.  Carter?" 

"Of  course,"  I  explained;  "if  I  dropped  you, 
Mrs.   Hilary  would  let  me  come  again." 

"How  charming  that  would  be!"  cried  Dolly. 
"  You  would  enjoy  her  nice  serious  conversation 
—  all  about  Hilary!" 

"She  is  apt,"  I  conceded,  "to  touch  on  Hilary. 
But  she  is  very  picturesque." 

"Oh,  yes,  she's  handsome,"  said  Dolly. 

There  was  a  pause.    Then  Dolly  said,  "  Well  ?  " 

"Well?"  said  I  in  return. 

"Is  it  good-by?"  asked  Dolly,  drawing  down 
the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

69 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"It  comes  to  this,"  I  remarked.  "Supposing  I 
forgive  you  —  " 

"As  if  it  was  my  fault!" 

"And  risk  Mrs.  Hilary's  wrath — did  you 
speak? " 

"No;  I  laughed,  Mr.  Carter." 

"What  shall  I  get  out  of  it?" 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly :  it  shone  on  Dolly ; 
she  had  raised  her  parasol,  but  she  bhnked  a  little 
beneath  it.  She  was  smiling  slightly  still,  and  one 
dimple  stuck  to  its  post  —  like  a  sentinel,  ready  to 
rouse  the  rest  from  their  brief  repose.  Dolly  lay  back 
in  the  victoria,  nestling  luxuriously  against  the  soft 
cushions.    She  turned  her  eyes  for  a  moment  on  me. 

"Why  are  you  looking  at  me?"  she  asked. 

"  Because,"  said  I,  "  there  is  nothing  better  to 
look  at." 

"Do  you  like  doing  it?"   asked  Dolly. 

"It  is  a  privilege,"  said  I,  politely. 

"Well,  then!"  said  Dolly. 

"But,"  I  ventured  to  observe,  "it's  rather  an 
expensive  one." 

"Then  you  must  n't  have  it  very  often." 

"And  it  is  shared  by  so  many  people." 

"Then,"  said  Dolly,  smiling  indulgently,  "you 
must  have  it — a  little  oftener.  Home,  Roberts, 
please." 

I  am  not  yet  allowed  at  Mrs.  Hilary  Musgrave's. 
70 


IX 

A   VERY    DULL   AFFAIR 

lO  hear  you  talk,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Hilary  Musgrave  —  and, 
if  any  one  is  surprised  to  find 
me  at  her  house,  I  can  only 
say  that  Hilary,  when  he  asked 
me  to  take  pot-luck,  was  quite 
ignorant  of  any  ground  of  difference  between  his 
wife  and  myself,  and  that  Mrs.  Hilary  could  not 
very  well  eject  me  on  my  arrival  in  evening  dress 
at  ten  minutes  to  eight  —  "to  hear  you  talk  one 
would  think  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  real 
love." 

She  paused.     I  smiled. 

"  Now,"  she  continued,  turning  a  fine,  but 
scornful  eye  upon  me,  "  I  have  never  cared  for 
any  man  in  the  world  except  my  husband." 

I  smiled  again.  Poor  Hilary  looked  very 
uncomfortable.  With  an  apologetic  air  he  began 
to  stammer  something  about  Parish  Councils.  I 
was  not  to  be  diverted  by  any  such  manoeuvre. 
It  was  impossible  that  he  could  really  wish  to  talk 
on  that  subject. 

71 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Would  a  person  who  had  never  eaten  anything 
but  beef  make  a  boast  of  it?"   I  asked. 

Hilary  grinned  covertly.  Mrs.  Hilary  pulled 
the  lamp  nearer,  and  took  up  her  embroidery. 

"Do  you  always  work  the  same  pattern?" 
said  L 

Hilary  kicked  me  gently.  Mrs.  Hilary  made  no 
direct  reply,  but  presently  she  began  to  talk. 

"  I  was  just  about  Phyllis's  age  "  —  (by  the  way, 
little  Miss  Phyllis  was  there)  —  "when  I  first  saw 
Hilary.  You  remember,  Hilary?  At  Bourne- 
mouth ?  " 

"Oh  —  er  —  was  it  Bournemouth?"  said  Hil- 
ary, with  much  carelessness. 

"I  was  on  the  pier,"  pursued  Mrs.  Hilary.  "I 
had  a  red  frock  on,  I  remember,  and  one  of  those 
big  hats  they  wore  that  year.     Hilary  wore  —  " 

"Blue  serge,"  I  interpolated,  encouragingly. 

"Yes,  blue  serge,"  said  she,  fondly.  "  He  had 
been  yachting,  and  he  was  beautifully  burnt.  I 
was  horribly  burnt  —  was  n't  I,  Hilary  ?  " 

Hilary  began  to  pat  the  dog. 

"  Then  we  got  to  know  one  another." 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  I,  "  How  did  that 
happen  ?  " 

Mrs.  Hilary  blushed. 

"  Well,  we  were  both  always  on  the  pier,"  she 
explained.     "  And  —  and  somehow  Hilary  got  to 

72 


A    VERY    DULL    AFFAIR 

know  father,  and  —  and  father  introduced  him  to 
me. 

"  I  'm  glad  it  was  no  worse,"  said  L  I  was 
considering  Miss  Phyllis,  who  sat  listening,  open- 
eyed. 

"  And  then,  you  know,  father  was  n't  always 
there;  and  once  or  twice  we  met  on  the  cliff.  Do 
you  remember  that  morning,  Hilary  ?  " 

"What  morning?"  asked  Hilary,  patting  the 
dog  with  immense  assiduity. 

"  Why,  the  morning  I  had  my  white  serge  on. 
I  'd  been  bathing,  and  my  hair  was  down  to  dry, 
and  you  said  I   looked  like  a  mermaid." 

"  Do  mermaids  wear  white  serge  ? "  I  asked ; 
but  nobody  took  the  least  notice  of  me  —  quite 
properly. 

"And  you  told  me  such  a  lot  about  yourself; 
and  then  we  found  we  were  late  for  lunch." 

"Yes,"  said  Hilary,  suddenly  forgetting  the  dog, 
"  and  your  mother  gave  me  an  awful  glance." 

"Yes,  and  then  you  told  me  that  you  were  very 
poor,  but  that  you  could  n't  help  it ;  and  you  said 
you  supposed  I  couldn't  possibly  — " 

"Well,  I  did  n't  think— !" 

"  And  I  said  you  were  a  silly  old  thing  ;  and 
then — "     Mrs.   Hilary  stopped  abruptly. 

"How  lovely!"  remarked  little  Miss  Phyllis,  in 
a  wistful  voice. 

73 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"And  do  you  remember,"  pursued  Mrs.  Hilary, 
laying  down  her  embroidery  and  clasping  her 
hands  on  her  knees,  "  the  morning  you  went  to 
see  father?  " 

"  What  a  row  there  was  !  "   said  Hilary. 

"  And  what  an  awful  week  it  was  after  that !  I 
was  never  so  miserable  in  all  my  life.  I  cried  till 
my  eyes  were  quite  red,  and  then  I  bathed  them 
for  an  hour,  and  then  I  went  to  the  pier,  and  you 
were  there  —  and  I  might  n't  speak  to  you  !  " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Hilary,  nodding  gently. 

"  And  then,  Hilary,  father  sent  for  me  and  told 
me  it  was  no  use;  and  I  said  I  'd  never  marry  any- 
one else.  And  father  said,  *  There,  there,  don't 
cry.     We  '11  see  what  mother  says.'  " 

"Your  mother  was  a  brick,"  said  Hilary,  pok- 
ing the  fire. 

"And  that  night  —  they  never  told  me  anything 
about  it,  and  I  did  n't  even  change  my  frock,  but 
came  down,  looking  horrible,  just  as  I  was,  in  an 
old  black  rag —  Now,  Hilary,  don't  say  it  was 
pretty  !  " 

Hilary,  unconvinced,  shook  his  head. 

"  And  when  I  walked  into  the  drawing-room 
there  was  nobody  there  but  just  you  ;  and  we  nei- 
ther of  us  said  anything  for  ever  so  long.  And 
then  father  and  mother  came  in  and  —  do  you 
remember  after  dinner,  Hilary  ?  " 

74 


A   VERY    DULL    AFFAIR 

"  I  remember,"  said  Hilary. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Mrs.  Hilary  was 
looking  into  the  fire  ;  little  Miss  Phyllis's  eyes 
were  fixed,  in  rapt  gaze,  on  the  ceiling;  Hilary 
was  looking  at  his  wife ;  I,  thinking  it  safest,  was 
regarding  my  own  boots. 

At  last  Miss  Phyllis  broke  the  silence. 

"  How  perfectly  lovely  !  "  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  And  we  were 
married  three  months  afterwards." 

"Tenth  of  June,"  said  Hilary,  reflectively. 

"And  we  had  the  most  charming  little  rooms  in 
the  world  !  Do  you  remember  those  first  rooms, 
dear  ?     So  tiny  !  " 

"  Not  bad  little  rooms,"  said  Hilary. 

"How  awfully  lovely!"  cried  little  Miss  Phyllis. 

I  felt  that  it  was  time  to  interfere. 

"  And  is  that  all?"   I  asked. 

"All?  How  do  you  mean?"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
with  a  slight  start. 

"  Well,  I  mean,  did  nothing  else  happen  ? 
Were  n't  there  any  complications  ?  Were  n't 
there  any  more  troubles,  or  any  more  opposition, 
or  any  misunderstandings,  or  anything?" 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  You  never  quarrelled,  or  broke  it  off? " 

"  No." 

"  Nobody  came  between  you  ? " 
75 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  No.  It  all  went  just  perfectly.  Why,  of 
course  it  did." 

"  Hilary's  people  made  themselves  nasty,  per- 
haps ?  "   I  suggested,  with  a  ray  of  hope. 

"  They  fell  in  love  with  her  on  the  spot,"  said 
Hilary. 

Then  I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to  the  fire. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  I  observed,  "  what  Miss 
Phyllis  thinks  about  it  —  " 

"  I  think  it  was  just  perfect,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  But  for  my  part,  I  can  only  say  that  I  never 
heard  of  such  a  dull  affair  in  all  my  life." 

''Dull!''  gasped  Miss  Phyllis. 

''Dull!''  murmured  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Dull!"  chuckled  Hilary. 

"  It  was,"  said  I,  severely,  "  without  a  spark  of 
interest  from  beginning  to  end.  Such  things  hap- 
pen by  thousands.  It 's  commonplaceness  itself 
I  had  some  hopes  when  your  father  assumed  a 
firm  attitude,  but  —  " 

'•  Mother  was  such  a  dear,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  Just  so.  She  gave  away  the  whole  situation. 
Then  I  did  trust  that  Hilary  would  lose  his  place, 
or  develop  an  old  flame,  or  do  something  just  a 
little  interesting." 

"  It  was  a  perfect  time,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  I  wonder  why  in  the  world  you  told  me  about 
it,"  I  pursued.  76 


A    VERY    DULL    AFFAIR 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  did,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
dreamily. 

"  The  only  possible  excuse  for  an  engagement 
like  that,"  I  observed,  "  is  to  be  found  in  intense 
post-nuptial  unhappiness." 

Hilary  rose,  and  advanced  towards  his  wife. 

"  Your  embroidery  's  falling  on  the  floor,"  said 
he. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  he  persisted ;  and  he  picked  it  up 
and  gave  it  to  her.  Miss  Phyllis  smiled  delight- 
edly.     Hilary  had  squeezed  his  wife's  hand. 

"  Then  we  don't  excuse  it,"  said  he. 

I  took  out  my  watch.  I  was  not  finding  much 
entertainment. 

"  Surely  it 's  quite  early,  old  man  ?  "  said 
Hilary. 

"It's  nearly  eleven.  We've  spent  half-an-hour 
on  the  thing,"  said  I,  peevishly,  holding  out  my 
hand  to  my  hostess. 

"Oh,  are  you  going?  Good-night,  Mr. 
Carter." 

I  turned  to  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  think  all  love  affairs  are 
like  that,"  I  said ;  but  I  saw  her  lips  begin  to 
shape  into  "  lovely,"  and  I  hastily  left  the 
room. 

Hilary   came    to    help    me    on    with    my   coat. 
77 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

He  looked  extremely  apologetic,  and  very  much 
ashamed  of  himself. 

"Awfully  sorry,  old  chap,"  said  he,  "that  we 
bored  you  with  our  reminiscences.  I  know,  of 
course,  that  they  can't  be  very  interesting  to 
other  people.  Women  are  so  confoundedly 
romantic." 

"  Don't  try  that  on  with  me,"  said  I,  much  dis- 
gusted.    "  You  were  just  as  bad  yourself." 

He  laughed,  as  he  leant  against  the  door. 

"  She  did  look  ripping  in  that  white  frock,"  he 
said,  "  with  her  hair  —  " 

"Stop,"  said  I,  firmly.  "She  looked  just  like 
a  lot  of  other  girls." 

"I  'm  hanged  if  she  did  !  "  said  Hilary. 

Then  he  glanced  at  me  with  a  puzzled  sort  of 
expression. 

"  I  say,  old  man,  were  n't  you  ever  that  way 
way  yourself.''"  he  asked. 

I  hailed  a  hansom  cab. 

"  Because  if  you  were,  you  know,  you  'd  under- 
stand how  a  fellow  remembers  every  —  " 

"Good-night,"  said  I.  "At  least,  I  suppose 
you  're  not  coming  to  the  club  ? " 

"  Well,  I  think  not,"  said  Hilary.  "  Ta-ta,  old 
fellow.  Sorry  we  bored  you.  Of  course,  if  a  man 
has  never  —  " 

"  Never  !  "  I  groaned.     "  A  score  of  times  !  " 
78 


A    VERY    DULL    AFFAIR 

"  Well,  then,  does  n't  it  —  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  L  "  It 's  just  that  that  makes 
stories  like  yours  so  infernally  — " 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Hilary  ;  for  I  had  paused  to 
light  a  cigarette. 

"  Uninteresting,"  said  I,  getting  into  my  cab. 


79 


X 


STRANGE,    BUT   TRUE 

'HE  other  day  my  young  cousin 
^  George  lunched  with  me.  He  is 
a  cheery  youth,  and  a  member  of 
the  University  of  Oxford.  He 
refreshes  me  very  much,  and  I 
believe  that  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  affording  him  some  matter  for  thought.  On 
this  occasion,  however,  he  was  extremely  silent  and 
depressed.  I  said  little,  but  made  an  extremely 
good  luncheon.  Afterwards  we  proceeded  to  take 
a  stroll  in  the  Park. 

"  Sam,  old  boy,"  said  George,  suddenly,  "  I  'm 
the  most  miserable  devil  alive." 

"  I  don't  know  what  else  you  expect  at  your 
age,"  I  observed,  lighting  a  cigar.  He  walked  on 
in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  say,  Sam,  old  boy,  when  you  were  young, 
were  you  ever  —  ?  "  He  paused,  arranged  his 
neckcloth  (it  was  more  like  a  bed-quilt  —  oh,  the 
fashion,  of  course,  1  know  that),  and  blushed  a 
fine  crimson. 

"Was  I  ever  what,  George?"  I  had  the  curios- 
ity to  ask. 

80 


STRANGE,    BUT    TRUE 

"  Oh,  well,  hard  hit,  you  know  —  a  girl,  you 
know." 

"In  love,  you  mean,  George?    No,  I  never  was." 

''  Never  ? '' 

"  No.     Are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Hang  it ! "  Then  he  looked  at  me 
with  a  puzzled  air  and  continued, — 

"  I  say,  though,  Sam,  it 's  awfully  funny  you 
should  n't  have  —  don't  you  know  what  it 's  like, 
then  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  ?  "  I  inquired  apologetically. 
"  What  is  it  like,  George  ?  " 

George  took  my  arm. 

"It's  just  Hades,"  he  informed  me  confidentially. 

"  Then,"  I  remarked,  "  I  have  no  reason  to 
regret  —  " 

"  Still,  you  know,"  interrupted  George,  "  it 's 
not  half-bad." 

"That  appears  to  me  to  be  a  paradox,"  I 
observed. 

"  It 's  precious  hard  to  explain  it  to  you  if 
you  've  never  felt  it,"  said  George,  in  rather  an 
injured  tone.     "  But  what  I   say  is  quite  true." 

"  I  should  n't  think  of  contradicting  you,  my 
dear  fellow,"   I   hastened  to  say. 

"Let 's  sit  down,"  said  he,  "and  watch  the  peo- 
ple driving.     We  may  see  somebody  —  somebody 
we  know,  you  know,  Sam." 
6  81 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  So  we  may,"  said  I,  and  we  sat  down. 

"  A  fellow,"  pursued  George,  with  knitted 
brows,  "  is  all  turned  upside-down,  don't  you 
know  ?  " 

"  How  very  peculiar  !  "   I  exclaimed. 

"  One  moment  he 's  the  happiest  dog  in  the 
world,  and  the  next  —  well,  the  next,  it 's  the 
deuce." 

"  But,"  I  objected,  "  not  surely  without  good 
reason  for  such   a  change  ?  " 

"  Reason  ?     Bosh  !     The  least  thing  does  it." 

I  flicked  the  ash  from  my  cigar. 

"It  may,"  I  remarked,  "  affect  you  in  this 
extraordinary  way,  but  surely  it  is  not  so  with 
most  people  ? " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  George  conceded.  "  Most  peo- 
ple are  cold-blooded  asses." 

"Very  likely  the  explanation  lies  in  that  fact," 
said  I. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  you,  old  chap,"  said  George,  with 
a  penitence  which  showed  that  he  had  meant  me. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  all  right,"  said  I. 

"  But  when  a  man  's  really  far  gone  there 's 
nothing  else  in  the  world  but  it." 

"  That  seems  to  me  not  to  be  a  healthy  condi- 
tion," said  I. 

"Healthy?  Oh,  you  old  idiot,  Sam  !  Who's 
talking  of  health?     Now,  only  last  night  I  met  her 

82 


STRANGE,    BUT    TRUE 

at  a  dance.  I  had  five  dances  with  her — talked  to 
her  half  the  evening,  in  fact.  Well,  you  'd  think 
that  would  last  some  time,  would  n't  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  certainly  have  supposed  so,"  I 
assented. 

"  So  it  would  with  most  chaps,  I  dare  say,  but 
with  me  —  confound  it,  I  feel  as  if  I  hadn't  seen 
her  for  six  months  !  " 

"  But,  my  dear  George,  that  is  surely  rather  ab- 
surd !,  As  you  tell  me,  you  spent  a  long  while 
with  the  young  person  —  " 

"  The  —  young  —  person !  " 

"  You  've  not  told  me  her  name,  you  see." 

"  No,  and  I  shan't.  I  wonder  if  she  '11  be  at 
the  Musgraves'  to-night !  " 

"You  're  sure,"  said  I,  soothingly,  "  to  meet  her 
somewhere  in  the  course  of  the  next  few  weeks." 

George  looked  at  me.  Then  he  observed  with 
a  bitter  laugh,  — 

"  It 's  pretty  evident  you  've  never  had  it. 
You  're  as  bad  as  those  chaps  who  write  books." 

"  Well,  but  surely  they  often  describe  with 
sufficient  warmth  and  —  er  —  colour  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  ;  but  it 's  all  wrong.  At  least, 
it 's  not  what  /  feel.  Then  look  at  the  girls  in 
books  !     All  beasts  I  " 

George  spoke  with  much  vehemence;  so  that 
1   was  led  to  say, — 

83 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"The  lady  you  are  preoccupied  with  is,  I  sup- 
pose, handsome  ?  " 

George  turned  swiftly  round  on  me. 

"  Look  here,  can  you  hold  your  tongue,  Sam  ? " 

I  nodded. 

"  Then  I  'm  hanged  if  I  won't  point  her  out  to 
you  ! 

"  That 's  uncommon  good  of  you,  George," 
said  L 

"  Then  you  '11  see,"  continued  George.  "  But 
it 's  not  only  her  looks,  you  know,  she 's  the 
most  —  " 

He  stopped.  Looking  round  to  see  why,  I 
observed  that  his  face  was  red  ;  he  clutched  his 
walking-stick  tightly  in  his  left  hand  ;  his  right 
hand  was  trembling,  as  if  it  wanted  to  jump  up 
to  his  hat.  "  Here  she  comes  !  Look,  look !  " 
he  whispered. 

Directing  my  eyes  towards  the  lines  of  carriages 
which  rolled  past  us,  I  observed  a  girl  in  a  vic- 
toria ;  by  her  side  sat  a  portly  lady  of  middle  age. 
The  girl  was  decidedly  like  the  lady  ;  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  lady  would  not,  I  imagine,  be  inter- 
esting. The  girl  blushed  slightly  and  bowed. 
George  and  I  lifted  our  hats.  The  victoria  and 
its  occupants  were  gone.  George  leant  back  with 
a  sigh.     After  a  moment  he  said,  — 

"Well,  that  was  her." 
84 


\' 


\i 


^ 


-i«<^A-n/  i:UJl^^(^f 


mtiy  ff 


"  There  is  n'  t,''  said  George,  "  a  girl  in  Lo/ulon  to  touch  her^* 


STRANGE,    BUT    TRUE 

There  was  expectancy  in  his  tone. 

"  She  has  an  extremely  prepossessing  appear- 
ance," I   observed. 

"There  is  n't,"  said  George,  "a  girl  in  London 
to  touch  her.  Sam,  old  boy,  I  believe  —  I  be- 
lieve she  likes  me  a  bit." 

"  I  'm  sure  she  must,  George,"  said  I ;  and, 
indeed,  I  thought  so. 

"  The  Governor  's  infernally  unreasonable,"  said 
George,  fretfully. 

"  Oh,  you  've  mentioned  it  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  sounded  him.  Oh,  you  may  be  sure  he 
did  n't  see  what  I  was  up  to.  I  put  it  quite 
generally.  He  talked  rot  about  getting  on  in 
the  world.     Who  wants  to  get  on  ?  " 

"  Who,  indeed  ?  "  said  I.  "  It  is  only  changing 
what  you  are  for  something  no  better." 

"  And  about  waiting  till  I  know  my  own  mind. 
Is  n't  it  enough  to  look  at  her  ?  " 

"  Ample,  in  my  opinion,"  said  I. 

George  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  They  've  gone  to  a  party ;  they  won't  come 
round  again,"  said  he.  "We  may  as  well  go, 
may  n't  we  ?" 

I  was  very  comfortable ;  so  I  said  timidly,  — 

"We  might  see  somebody  else  we  know." 

"  Oh,  somebody  else  be  hanged  !  Who  wants 
to  see  'em  ?  " 

85 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  'm  sure  I  don't,"  said  I,  hastily,  as  I  rose 
from  my  armcliair,  which  was  at  once  snapped  up. 

We  were  about  to  return  to  the  club,  when  I 
observed  Lady  Mickleham's  barouche  standing 
under  the  trees.  I  invited  George  to  come  and 
be  introduced. 

He  displayed  great  indifference. 

"  She  gives  a  good  many  parties,"  said  I ; 
"  and   perhaps  —  " 

"  By  Jove  !  yes.  I  may  as  well,"  said  George. 
"Glad  you  had  the  sense  to  think  of  that,  old  man." 

So  I  took  him  up  to  Dolly  and  presented  him. 
Dolly  was  very  gracious  :  George  is  an  eminently 
presentable  boy.     We  fell  into  conversation. 

"  My  cousin.  Lady  Mickleham,"  said  I,  "  has 
been  telling  me  —  " 

"  Oh,  shut  up,  Sam  ! "  said  George,  not,  how- 
ever, appearing  very  angry. 

"  About  a  subject  on  which  you  can  assist  him 
more  than  I  can,  inasmuch  as  you  are  married. 
He  is  in  love." 

Dolly  glanced  at  George. 

"  Oh,  what  fun  !  "  said  she. 

"  Fun  !  "  cried  George. 

"  I  mean,  how  awfully  interesting,"  said  Dolly, 
suddenly  transforming  her  expression. 

"  And  he  wanted  to  be  introduced  to  you  be- 
cause you  might  ask  her  and  him  to  —  " 

86 


STRANGE,    BUT    TRUE 

George  became  red,  and  began  to  stammer  an 
apology. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  him,"  said  Dolly,  kindly  ; 
"  he  always  makes  people  uncomfortable  if  he  can. 
What  were  you  telling  him,  Mr.  George?  " 

"It's  no  use  telling  him  anything.  He  can't 
understand,"  said   George. 

"Is  she  very — ?"  asked  Dolly,  fixing  doubt- 
fully grave  eyes  on  my  young  cousin. 

"Sam's  seen  her,"  said  he,  in  an  access  of  shyness. 

Dolly  turned  to  me  for  an  opinion,  and  I  gave 
one  :  — 

"  She  is  just,"  said  I,  "as  charming  as  he  thinks 
her." 

Dolly  leant  over  to  my  cousin,  and  whispered, 
"  Tell  me  her  name."  And  he  whispered  some- 
thing back  to   Dolly. 

"  It's  awfully  kind  of  you.  Lady  Mickleham," 
he  said. 

"  I  am  a  kind  old  thing,"  said  Dolly,  all  over 
dimples.      "  I   can  easily  get  to  know  them." 

"  Oh,  you  really  are  awfully  kind.  Lady  Mick- 
leham." 

Dolly  smiled  upon  him,  waved  her  hand  to  me, 
and  drove  off,  crying, — 

"  Do  try  to  make  Mr.  Carter  understand  !  " 

We  were  left  alone.  George  wore  a  meditative 
smile.      Presently  he  roused  himself  to  say,  — 

87 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  She  's  really  a  very  kind  woman.  She  's  so 
sympathetic.  She's  not  like  you.  I  expect  she 
felt  it  once  herself,  you  know." 

"  One  can  never  tell,"  said  I,  carelessly.  "  Per- 
haps she  did  —  once." 

George  fell  to  brooding  again.  I  thought  I 
would  try  an  experiment. 

"  Not  altogether  bad-looking,  either,  is  she  ?  " 
I  asked,  lighting  a  cigarette. 

George  started. 

"  What  ?  Oh,  well,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose 
some  people  might  think  so." 

He  paused,  and  added,  with  a  bashful,  knowing 
smile,  — 

"  You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  go  into  raptures 
about  her,  can  you,  old  man  ?  " 

I  turned  my  head  away,  but  he  caught  me. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  smile  in  that  infernally 
patronising  way,"  he  cried  angrily. 

"  Upon  my  word,  George,"  said  I,  "  I  don't 
know  that  I  need." 


88 


XI 


THE   VERY    LATEST    THING 

|T  'S  the  very  latest  thing,"  said 
Lady  Mickleham,  standing  by  the 
table  in  the  smoking-room,  and 
holding  an  album  in  her  hand. 

"  I    wish   it    had    been   a   little 
later  still,"   said  I,  for  I   felt  em- 
barrassed. 

"  You  promise,  on  your  honour,  to  be  absolutely 
sincere,  you  know,  and  then  you  write  what  you 
think  of  me.  See  what  a  lot  of  opinions  I  Ve  got 
already,"  and  she  held  up  the  thick  album, 

"  It  would  be  extremely  interesting  to  read  them," 
I  observed. 

"  Oh  !     but    they  're    quite    confidential,"    said 
Dolly.     "  That 's  part  of  the  fun." 
"  I  don't  appreciate  that  part,"  said  I. 
"  Perhaps  you  will  when  you  've  written  yours," 
suggested  Lady  Mickleham. 

"  Meanwhile,  may  n't  I  see  the  Dowager's  ?  " 
"  Well,  I  '11   show  you  a  little  bit  of  the  Dow- 
ager's.     Look  here  :  '  Our  dear  Dorothea  is  still 
perhaps  just  a  thought  wanting  in  seriousness,  but 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

the   sense   of   her  position    is    having  a    sobering 
effect.'  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  I  exclaimed  apprehensively. 
"  Whose  is  this  ?  " 

"  Archie's." 

"  May  I  see  a  bit  —  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Dolly.  "Archie's  is  —  is 
rather  foolish,   Mr.  Carter." 

"  So  I  suppose,"  said  L 

"  Dear  boy  !  "  said  Dolly,  reflectively. 

"  I  hate  sentiment,"  said  L  "  Here  's  a  long 
one.     Who  wrote  —  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  look  at  that  —  not  at  that, 
above  all ! " 

"  Why  above  all  ?  "  I  asked  with  some  severity. 

Dolly  smiled  ;  then  she  observed  in  a  soothing 
tone,  — 

"  Perhaps  it  won't  be  '  above  all '  when  you  've 
written  yours,   Mr.   Carter." 

"  By  the  way,"  I  said  carelessly,  "  I  suppose 
Archie  sees  all  of  them  ?  " 

"  He  has  never  asked  to  see  them,"  answered 
Lady   Mickleham. 

The  reply  seemed  satisfactory ;  of  course,  Archie 
had  only  to  ask.  I  took  a  clean  quill  and  prepared 
to  write. 

"  You  promise  to  be  sincere,  you  know,"  Dolly 
reminded  me. 

90 


THE    VERY    LATEST    THING 

I  laid  down  my  pen. 

"  Impossible  !  "   said  I,  firmly. 

"  Oh,  but  why,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"There  would  be  an  end  of  our  friendship." 

"  Do  you  think  as  badly  of  me  as  all  that  ?  " 
asked  Dolly,  with  a  rueful  air. 

I  leant  back  in  my  chair  and  looked  at  Dolly. 
She  looked  at  me.  She  smiled.  I  may  have 
smiled. 

"Yes,"  said  I. 

"Then  you  needn't  write  \t quite  all  down,"  said 
Dolly. 

"I  am  obliged,"  said  I,  taking  up  my  pen. 

'^You  mustn't  say  what  isn't  true,  but  you 
need  n't  say  everything  that  is  —  that  might  be  — 
true,"  explained  Dolly. 

This,  again,  seemed  satisfactory.  I  began  to 
write,  Dolly  sitting  opposite  me  with  her  elbows 
on  the  table,  and  watching  me. 

After  ten  minutes'  steady  work,  which  included 
several  pauses  for  reflection,  I  threw  down  the 
pen,  leant   back  in  my  chair,  and  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  Now  read  it,"  said  Dolly,  her  chin  in  her 
hands  and   her  eyes  fixed  on  me. 

"  It  is,  on  the  whole,"  I  observed,  "  com- 
plimentary." 

"No,  really?"  said  Dolly.  "Yet  you  prom- 
ised to  be  sincere." 

91 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"You  would  not  have  had  me  disagreeable?  "  I 
asked. 

"  That 's  a  different  thing,"  said  Dolly.  "  Read 
it,  please." 

"  Lady  Mickleham,"  I  read,  "  is  usually  ac- 
counted a  person  of  considerable  attractions.  She 
is  widely  popular,  and  more  than  one  woman  has 
been  known  to  like  her." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  that,"  interrupted 
Dolly. 

"  It  is  surely  simple,"  said  I  ;  and  I  read  on 
without  delay.  "She  is  kind  even  to  her  husband, 
and  takes  the  utmost  pains  to  conceal  from  her 
mother-in-law  anything  calculated  to  distress  that 
lady." 

"I  suppose  you  mean  that  to  be  nice?"  said  Dolly. 

"  Of  course,"  I  answered  ;  and  I  proceeded  : 
"  She  never  gives  pain  to  any  one,  except  with 
the  object  of  giving  pleasure  to  somebody  else,  and 
her  kindness  is  no  less  widely  diffused  than  it  is 
hearty  and   sincere." 

"  That  really  is  nice,"  said  Dolly,  smiling. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I,  smiling  also.  "  She  is 
very  charitable  :  she  takes  a  pleasure  in  encourag- 
ing the  shy  and  bashful  —  " 

"  How  d.o  you  know  that  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"  While,"  I  pursued,  "  suffering  without  impa- 
tience a  considerable  amount  of  self-assurance." 

92 


»-JaUtflrd  I    handifeV    LliriSkv-i    i?^-^ 


"  L.idy  Mickleham  is  usually  accounted 
a  person  of  considerable   attractions  ' ' 


THE    VERY    LATEST   THING 

"  You  can't  know  whether  I  'm  patient  or  not," 
remarked  Dolly.     "  I  'm  polite." 

"  She  thinks,"  1  read  on,  "  no  evil  of  the  most 
attractive  of  women,  and  has  a  smile  for  the  most 
unattractive  of  men." 

"You  put  that  very  nicely,"  said  Dolly,  nodding. 

"The  former  may  constantly  be  seen  in  her 
house  —  and  the  latter  at  least  as  often  as  many 
people  would  think  desirable."  (Here  for  some 
reason  Dolly  laughed.)  "  Her  intellectual  powers 
are  not  despicable." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  She  can  say  what  she  means  on  the  occasions 
on  which  she  wishes  to  do  so,  and  she  is,  at  other 
times,  equally  capable  of  meaning  much  more  than 
she  would  be  likely  to  say." 

"  How  do  you  mean  that,  Mr.  Carter,  please  ?  " 

"It  explains  itself,"  said  I,  and  I  proceeded: 
"  The  fact  of  her  receiving  a  remark  with  disap- 
probation does  not  necessarily  mean  that  it  causes 
her  displeasure,  nor  must  it  be  assumed  that  she 
did  not  expect  a  visitor,  merely  on  the  ground 
that  she  greets  him  with  surprise." 

Here  I  observed  Lady  Mickleham  looking  at 
me  rather  suspiciously. 

"  I  don't  think  that 's  quite  nice  of  you,  Mr. 
Carter,"  she  said  pathetically. 

"  Lady  Mickleham  is,  in  short,"  I  went  on, 
93 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

coming  to  my  peroration,  "  equally  deserving  of 
esteem  and  affection  —  " 

"  Esteem  and  affection  !  That  sounds  just 
right,"  said  Dolly,  approvingly. 

"  And  those  who  have  been  admitted  to  the 
enjoyment  of  her  friendship  are  unanimous  in 
discouraging  all  others  from  seeking  a  similar 
privilege." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  cried  Lady  Mickleham. 

"  Are  unanimous,"  I  repeated  slowly  and  dis- 
tinctly, "  in  discouraging  all  others  from  seeking  a 
similar  privilege." 

Dolly  looked  at  me,  with  her  brow  slightly 
puckered.  I  leant  back,  puffing  at  my  cigarette. 
Presently  —  for  there  was  quite  a  long  pause  — 
Dolly's  lips  curved. 

"My  mental  powers  are  not  despicable,"  she 
observed. 

"  I  have  said  so,"  said  L 

"  I  think  I  see,"  she  remarked. 

"  Is  there  anything  wrong  ?  "  I  asked  anxiously. 

"  N-no,"  said  Dolly,  "  not  exactly  wrong.  In 
fact,  I  rather  think  I  like  that  last  bit  best.  Still, 
don't  you  think — ?" 

She  rose,  came  round  the  table,  took  up  the  pen, 
and  put  it  back  in  my  hand. 

"What's  this  for?"   I  asked. 

"  To  correct  the  mistake,"  said  Dolly. 
94 


THE   VERY    LATEST    THING 

*'  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  'm  afraid  so,"  said  Dolly. 

I  took  the  pen  and  made  a  certain  alteration. 
Dolly  took  up  the  album. 

"'Are  unanimous,'"  she  read,  "'in  encourag- 
ing all  others  to  seek  a  similar  privilege.'  Yes, 
you  meant  that,  you  know,   Mr.  Carter." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  have,"  said  I,  rather  sulkily. 

"  The  other  was  nonsense,"  urged  Dolly. 

"  Oh,  utter  nonsense,"  said  I. 

"And  you  had  to  write  the  truth  ! " 

"  Yes,  I  had  to  write  some  of  it." 

"  And  nonsense  can't  be  the  truth,  can  it,  Mr. 
Carter  ? " 

"  Of  course  it  can't.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"Where  are  you  going,  Mr.  Carter.?"  she 
asked ;  for  I   rose  from  my  chair. 

"  To  have  a  quiet  smoke,"  said  L 

"  Alone  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"Yes,  alone,"  said  L 

I  walked  towards  the  door.  Dolly  stood  by  the 
table  fingering  the  album.  I  had  almost  reached 
the  door  ;  then  I  happened  to  look  round. 

"  Mr.  Carter  ! "  said  Dolly,  as  though  a  new 
idea  had  struck  her. 

"  What  is  it.  Lady  Mickleham  .?  " 

"Well,  you  know,  Mr.  Carter,  I — I  shall  try 
to  forget  that  mistake  of  yours." 

95 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"You're  very  kind,  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  But,"  said  Dolly,  with  a  troubled  smile,  "I  — 

I  'm  quite  afraid  I  shan't  succeed,  Mr.  Carter." 
After    all,    the    smoking-room    is    meant    for 

smoking. 


96 


XII 

AN    UNCOUNTED    HOUR 

^^^fc%^,^^^E  were  standing,  Lady  Mickle- 
^f^^y^^^^^  ham  and  I,  at  a  door  which  led 
^^P  W  ^^  from  the  morning-room  to  the 
^^JL^J|^^K  terrace  at  The  Towers.  I  was 
1^^^/^^^^^  on  a  visit  to  that  historic  pile 
1'^^^^^^^^^^  (by  Vanbrugh  —  out  of  the 
money  accumulated  by  the  third  Earl  —  Paymaster 
to  the  Forces  —  temp.  Queen  Anne),  The  morn- 
ing-room is  a  large  room.  Archie  was  somewhere 
in  it.  Lady  Mickleham  held  ajar  containing />^/^ 
de  foie  gras ;  from  time  to  time  she  dug  a  piece 
out  with  a  fork  and  flung  the  morsel  to  a  big 
retriever  which  was  sitting  on  the  terrace.  The 
morning  was  fine  but  cloudy.  Lady  Mickleham 
wore  blue.  The  dog  swallowed  the  pate  with 
greediness. 

"  It 's  so  bad  for  him,"  sighed   she  ;  "  but  the 
dear  likes  it  so  much." 

"  How  human  the  creatures  are  !  "  said  L 
"Do   you   know,"    pursued    Lady    Mickleham, 
"  that  the   Dowager  says  I  'm  extravagant.       She 
thinks   dogs  ought  not  to  be  fed  on  pate  de  foie 
gras." 

7  97 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Your  extravagance,"  I  observed,  "  is  probably 
due  to  your  having  been  brought  up  on  a  mod- 
erate income.     I   have  felt  the  effect  myself." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Dolly,  "  we  are  hit  by  the 
agricultural  depression." 

"  The  Carters  also,"  I  murmured,  "  are  landed 
gentry." 

"  After  all,  I  don't  see  much  point  in  economy, 
do  you,  Mr.   Carter  ?  " 

"  Economy,"  I  remarked,  putting  my  hands  in 
my  pockets,  "is  going  without  something  you  do 
want  In  case  you  should,  some  day,  want  some- 
thing which  you  probably  won't  want." 

"  Is  n't  that  clever?  "  asked  Dolly,  in  an  appre- 
hensive tone. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no,"  I  answered  reassuringly. 
"  Anybody  can  do  that  —  if  they  care  to  try,  you 
know." 

Dolly  tossed  a  piece  o^ pate  to  the  retriever. 

"  I  have  made  a  discovery  lately,"  I  observed. 

"  What  are  you  two  talking  about  ? "  called 
Archie. 

"  You  're  not  meant  to  hear,"  said  Dolly,  with- 
out turning  round. 

"  Yet  if  it  's  a  discovery,  he  ought  to  hear  it." 

"  He  's  made  a  good  many  lately,"  said  Dolly. 

She  dug  out  the  last  bit  of  pat^,  flung  it  to  the 
dog,  and  handed  the  empty  pot  to  me. 

98 


AN    UNCOUNTED    HOUR 

"  Don't  be  so  allegorical,"  I  implored.  "  Besides, 
it's  really  not  just  to  Archie.  No  doubt  the  dog 
is  a  nice  one,  but  —  " 

"  How  foolish  you  are  this  morning  !  What 's 
the  discovery  ?  " 

"  An  entirely  surprising  one." 

"Oh,  but  let  me  hear!  It's  nothing  about 
Archie,  is  it  ?  " 

"  No.     I  've  told  you  all  Archie's  sins." 

"  Nor  Mrs.  Hilary  ?  I  wish  it  was  Mrs. 
Hilary !  " 

"Shall  we  walk  on  the  terrace?"   I  suggested. 

"Oh,  yes,  let's,"  said  Dolly,  stepping  out,  and 
putting  on  a  broad-brimmed,  low-crowned  hat, 
which  she  caught  up  from  a  chair  hard  by.  "  It 
is  n't  Mrs.  Hilary  ?"  she  added,  sitting  down  on  a 
garden  seat. 

"  No,"  said  I,  leaning  on  a  sun-dial  which  stood 
by  the  seat. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  It  is  simple,"  said  I,  "and  serious.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  like  you.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"It's  like  Mrs.  Hilary,"  said  Dolly. 

"  No  ;  because  it  is  n't  pleasant.  By  the  way, 
are  you  jealous  of  Mrs.   Hilary  ?  " 

Dolly  said  nothing  at  all.  She  took  off  her 
hat,  roughened  her  hair  a  little,  and  assumed  an 
effective  pose.       Still,  it    is  a  fact  (for  what  it  is 

99 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

worth)  that  she  does  n't  care  much  about  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  The  discovery,"  I  continued,  "  is  that  I  'm 
growing  middle-aged." 

"  You  are  middle-aged,"  said  Dolly,  spearing 
her  hat  with  its  long  pin. 

I  was,  very  naturally,  nettled  at  this. 

"  So  will  you  be  soon,"  I  retorted. 

"Not  soon,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Some  day,"  I  insisted. 

After  a  pause  of  about  half  a  minute,  Dolly  said, 
"  I  suppose  so." 

"  You  will  become,"  I  pursued,  idly  drawing 
patterns  with  my  finger  on  the  sun-dial,  "  wrinkled, 
rough,  fat  —  and,  perhaps,  good." 

"You're  very  disagreeable  to-day,"  said  Dolly. 

She  rose  and  stood  by  me. 

"  What  do  the  mottoes  mean  ?"  she  asked. 

There  were  two  :  I  will  not  say  they  contra- 
dicted one  another,  but  they  looked  at  life  from 
different  points  of  view. 

"  Pereunt  et  imputantur^'  I  read. 

"Well,  what's  that,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"A  trite,  but  offensive,  assertion,"  said  I,  light- 
ing a  cigarette. 

"  But  what  does  it  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  a  pucker 
on  her  forehead. 

"What  does  it  matter?"  said  L  "Let's  try 
the  other."  loo 


AN    UNCOUNTED    HOUR 

"  The  other  is  longer." 

"  And  better.      Horas  non  numero  nisi  Serenas^ 

"  And  what 's  that .?  " 

I  translated  literally.  Dolly  clapped  her  hands, 
and  her  face  gleamed  with  smiles. 

"  I  like  that  one  !  "  she  cried. 

"Stop  !  "  said  I,  imperatively.  "  You  '11  set  it 
moving  !  " 

"  It 's  very  sensible,"  said  she. 

"  More  freely  rendered,  it  means,  '  I  live  only 
when  you  —  " 

"  By  Jove  !  "  remarked  Archie,  coming  up 
behind  us,  pipe  in  mouth,  "  there  was  a  lot  of  rain 
last  night.      I  've  just  measured  it  in  the  gauge." 

"Some  people  measure  everything,"  said  I,  with 
a  displeased  air.     "  It  is  a  detestable  habit." 

"Archie,  what  does  Pereunt  et  imputantur 
mean  ?  " 

"  Eh  ?  Oh,  I  see.  Well,  I  say.  Carter  !  —  Oh, 
well,  you  know,  I  suppose  it  means  you  've  got  to 
pay  for  your  fun,  does  n't  it  ?  " 

"Oh,  is  that  all .''  I  was  afraid  it  was  something 
horrid.     Why  did  you  frighten  me,  Mr.  Carter.''  " 

"  I  think  it  is  rather  horrid,"  said  I. 

"Why,  it  is  n't  even  true,"  said  Dolly,  scornfully. 

Now  when  I  heard  this  ancient  and  respectable 
legend  thus  cavalierly  challenged  I  fell  to  studying 
it  again,  and  presently  I  exclaimed, — 

lOI 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"Yes,  you  're  right !  If  it  said  that,  it  would  n't 
be  true  ;  but  Archie  translated  wrong." 

"  Well,  you  have  a  shot,"  suggested  Archie. 

"The  oysters  are  eaten  and  put  down  in  the 
bill,"  said  I.  "  And  you  will  observe,  Archie, 
that  it  does  not  say  in  whose  bill." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Dolly. 

"  Well,  somebody  's  got  to  pay,"  persisted 
Archie. 

"  Oh,  yes,  somebody,"  laughed  Dolly. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Archie.  "I  suppose 
the  chap  that  has  the  fun  —  " 

"  It's  not  always  a  chap,"  observed  Dolly. 

"  Well,  then,  the  individual,"  amended  Archie. 
"  I  suppose  he  'd  have  to  pay." 

"  It  does  n't  say  so,"  I  remarked  mildly.  "  And 
according  to  my  small  experience  —  " 

"  I  'm  quite  sure  your  meaning  is  right,  Mr. 
Carter,"  said  Dolly,  in  an  authoritative  tone. 

"  As  for  the  other  motto,  Archie,"  said  I,  "  it 
merely  means  that  a  woman  considers  all  hours 
wasted  which  she  does  not  spend  in  the  society  of 
her  husband." 

"  Oh,  come,  you  don't  gammon  me,"  said 
Archie.  "  It  means  that  the  sun  don't  shine 
unless  it 's  fine,  you  know." 

Archie  delivered  this  remarkable  discovery  in  a 
tone  of  great  self-satisfaction, 

102 


AN   UNCOUNTED    HOUR 

"  Oh,  you  dear  old  thing  !  "  said  Dolly. 

"  Well,  it  does,  you  know,"  said  he. 

There  was  a  pause.  Archie  kissed  his  wife  (I 
am  not  complaining ;  he  has,  of  course,  a  perfect 
right  to  kiss  his  wife)  and  strolled  away  towards 
the  hot-houses. 

I  lit  another  cigarette.  Then  Dolly,  pointing 
to  the  stem  of  the  dial,  cried,  — 

"  Why,  here  's  another  inscription  —  oh,  and  in 
English !  " 

She  was  right.  There  was  another  —  carelessly 
scratched  on  the  old  battered  column  —  nearly 
effaced,  for  the  characters  had  been  but  lightly 
marked  —  and  yet  not,  as  I  conceived  from  the 
tenor  of  the  words,  very  old. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Dolly,  peering  over  my 
shoulder,  as  I  bent  down  to  read  the  letters,  and 
shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand.  (Why  did  n't 
she  put  on  her  hat?  We  touch  the  Incom- 
prehensible.) 

"It  is,"  said  I,  "a  singularly  poor,  shallow, 
feeble,  and  undesirable  little  verse." 

"  Read  it  out,"  said  Dolly. 

So  I  read  it.     The  silly  fellow  had  written  : 

"  Life  is  Love,  the  poets  tell  us. 
In  the  little  books  they  sell  us  ; 
But  pray,  ma'am  —  what 's  of  Life  the  Use, 
If  Life  be  Love  ?     For  Love  's  the  Deuce." 
103 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Dolly  began  to  laugh  gently,  digging  the  pin 
again  into  her  hat. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  she,  "  whether  they  used  to 
come  and  sit  by  this  old  dial  just  as  we  did  this 
morning !  " 

"  I  should  n't  be  at  all  surprised,"  said  L  "  And 
another  point  occurs  to  me.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Oh,  does  it  ?     What 's  that,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  anybody  measured  the 
rain-gauge  ?  " 

Dolly  looked  at  me  very  gravely. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry  when  you  do  that,"  said  she, 
pathetically. 

I  smiled. 

"  I  really  am,"  said  Dolly.  "  But  you  don't 
mean  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  L 

Dolly  smiled. 

"No  more  than  he  did!"  said  I,  pointing  to 
the  sun-dial. 

And  then  we  both  smiled. 

"  Will  this  hour  count,  Mr.  Carter  ?  "  asked 
Dolly,  as  she  turned  away. 

"  That  would  be  rather  strict,"  said  L 


104 


XIII 


A   REMINISCENCE 


KNOW  exactly  what  your 
mother  wants,  PhylHs,"  ob- 
served  Mrs.   Hilary. 

"It 's  just  to  teach  them  the 
ordinary  things/'  said  little  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"What  are  the  ordinary  things?"  I  ventured 
to  ask. 

"  W^hat  all  girls  are  taught,  of  course,  Mr. 
Carter,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  I  '11  write  about  it 
at  once."  And  she  looked  at  me  as  if  she 
thought  that  I   might  be  about  to  go. 

"  It  is  a  comprehensive  curriculum,"  I  re- 
marked, crossing  my  legs,  "  if  one  may  judge 
from  the  results.  How  old  are  your  younger 
sisters.   Miss   Phyllis  ?  " 

"  Fourteen  and  sixteen,"  she  answered. 
"  It  is  a  pity,"  said  I,  "  that  this  didn't  happen 
a    little   while    back.      I    knew   a    governess   who 
would  have  suited  the  place  to  a  *  t.'  " 
Mrs.  Hilary  smiled  scornfully. 
"  We  used  to  meet,"  I  continued. 
105 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Who  used  to  meet  ?  "  asked  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  The  governess  and  myself,  to  be  sure,"  said 
I,  "  under  the  old  apple-tree  in  the  garden  at  the 
back  of  the  house." 

"  What  house,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  My  father's  house,  of  course.  Miss  Phyllis. 
And  —  " 

"  Oh,  but  that  must  be  ages  ago  !  "  cried  she. 

Mrs.  Hilary  rose,  cast  one  glance  at  me,  and 
turned  to  the  writing-table.  Her  pen  began  to 
scratch  almost  immediately. 

"  And  under  the  apple-tree,"  I  pursued,  "  we 
had  many  pleasant  conversations." 

"  What  about  ?  "  asked  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  One  thing  and  another,"  I  returned.  "  The 
schoolroom  windows  looked  out  that  way,  —  a 
circumstance  which  made  matters  more  comfort- 
able for  everybody." 

"  I  should  have  thought  —  "  began  Miss  Phyl- 
lis, smiling  slightly,  but  keeping  an  apprehensive 
eye  on   Mrs.   Hilary's  back. 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  interrupted.  "  My  sisters  saw 
us,  you  see.  Well,  of  course  they  entertained  an 
increased  respect  for  me,  which  was  all  right,  and 
a  decreased  respect  for  the  governess,  which  was 
also  all  right.  We  met  in  the  hour  allotted  to 
French  lessons  —  by  an  undesigned  but  appro- 
priate coincidence." 

1 06 


A    REMINISCENCE 

"  I  shall  say  about  thirty-five,  Phyllis,"  called 
Mrs.   Hilary  from   the  writing-table. 

"  Yes,  Cousin  Mary,"  called  Miss  Phyllis. 
"  Did  you  meet  often,   Mr.   Carter  ?  " 

"  Every  evening  in  the  French  hour,"  said  I. 

"She'll  have  got  over  any  nonsense  by  then," 
called  Mrs.  Hilary.     "  They  're  often  full  of  it." 

"  She  had  remarkably  pretty  hair,"  I  continued; 
"very  soft  it  was.     Dear  me  !     I  was  just  twenty." 

"  How  old  was  she  ?  "  asked  Miss  Phyllis. 

"One's  first  love,"  said  I,  "is  never  any  age. 
Everything  went  very  well.  Happiness  was 
impossible.  I  was  heart-broken,  and  the  gover- 
ness was  far  from  happy.  Ah,  happy,  happy 
times  !  " 

"  But  you  don't  seem  to  have  been  happy," 
objected  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  Then  came  a  terrible  evening  —  " 

"  She  ought  to  be  a  person  of  active  habits," 
called  Mrs.   Hilary. 

"  I  think  so,  yes.  Cousin  Mary.  Oh,  what 
happened,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  And  an  early  riser,"  added  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Yes,  Cousin  Mary.  What  did  happen,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

"  My  mother  came  in  during  the  French  hour. 
I  don't  know  whether  you  have  observed.  Miss 
Phyllis,  how  easy  it  is   to  slip  into  the   habit  of 

107 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

entering  rooms  when  you  had  better  remain  out- 
side. Now,  even  my  friend  Arch  —  However, 
that 's  neither  here  nor  there.  My  mother,  as  I 
say,  came  in." 

"  Church  of  England,  of  course,  Phyllis .''  " 
called   Mrs.   Hilary. 

"  Oh,  of  course.  Cousin  Mary,"  cried  little  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"  The  sect  makes  no  difference,"  I  observed. 
"  Well,  my  sisters,  like  good  girls,  began  to  repeat 
the  irregular  verbs.  But  it  was  no  use.  We  were 
discovered.  That  night,  Miss  Phyllis,  I  nearly 
drowned  myself" 

"  You  must  have  been  —  Oh,  how  awful,  Mr. 
Carter !  " 

"  That  is  to  say,  I  thought  how  effective  it 
would  be  if  I  drowned  myself.  Ah,  well,  it 
could  n't  last !  " 

"  And  the  governess  ?  " 

"  She  left  next  morning." 

There  was  a  pause.  Miss  Phyllis  looked  sad 
and  thoughtful  :  I  smiled  pensively  and  beat  my 
cane  against  my  leg. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  her  since  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Phyllis. 

"  No." 

"  Should  n't  —  should  n't  you  like  to,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

io8 


A    REMINISCENCE 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  I. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Hilary  pushed  back  her  chair, 
and  turned  round  to  us. 

"Well,  I  declare,"  said  she,  "I  must  be  grow- 
ing stupid.  Here  have  I  been  writing  to  the 
Agency,  when  I  know  of  the  very  thing  myself! 
The  Polwheedles'  governess  is  just  leaving  them  ; 
she  's  been  there  over  fifteen  years.  Lady  Pol- 
wheedle  told  me  she  was  a  treasure.  I  wonder  if 
she  'd  go  !  " 

"  Is  she  what  mamma  wants  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  you  '11  be  most  lucky  to  get  her. 
I  '11  write  at  once  and  ask  her  to  come  to  lunch 
to-morrow.  I  met  her  there.  She  's  an  admirable 
person." 

Mrs.  Hilary  wheeled  round  again.  I  shook 
my  head  at  Miss   Phyllis. 

"  Poor  children  !  "  said  I.  "  Manage  a  bit  of 
fiin  for  them  sometimes." 

Miss  Phyllis  assumed  a  staid  and  virtuous  air. 

"  They  must  be  properly  brought  up,  Mr. 
Carter,"   said   she. 

"  Is  there  a  House  Opposite  .?  "  I  asked  ;  and 
Miss  PhylHs  blushed. 

Mrs.  Hilary  advanced,  holding  out  a  letter. 

"  You  may  as  well  post  this  for  me,"  said  she. 
"  Oh,  and  would  you  like  to  come  to  lunch  to- 
morrow ?  " 

109 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  To  meet  the  Paragon  ?  " 

"  No.  She  '11  be  there,  of  course  ;  but  you  see 
it's  Saturday,  and  Hilary  will  be  here;  and  I 
thought  you  might  take  him  off  somewhere  and 
leave  Phyllis  and  me  to  have  a  quiet  talk  with 
her." 

"  That  won't  amuse  her  much,"  I  ventured  to 
remark. 

"  She 's  not  coming  to  be  amusedy'*  said  Mrs. 
Hilary,  severely. 

"All  right ;   I  '11  come,"  said  I,  taking  my  hat. 

"  Here 's  the  note  for  Miss  Bannerman,"  said 
Mrs.    Hilary. 

That  sort  of  thing  never  surprises  me.  I  looked 
at  the  letter  and  read  "  Miss  M,  E.  Bannerman." 
"  M.  E."  stood  for  "  Maud  Elizabeth."  I  put 
my  hat  back  on  the  table. 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  person  is  this  Miss 
Bannerman  .?  "   I   asked. 

"  Oh,  a  spare,  upright  woman  —  hair  a  little 
gray,  and — I  don't  know  how  to  describe  it  — 
her  face  looks  a  little  weather-beaten.  She  wears 
glasses." 

"Thank  you,"  said  I.  "And  what  sort  of  a 
looking  person  am   I?" 

Mrs.  Hilary  looked  scornful.  Miss  Phyllis 
opened  her  eyes. 

"  How  old  do  I  look,  Miss  Phyllis?  "    I  asked. 


A    REMINISCENCE 

Miss  Phyllis  scanned  me  from  top  to  toe. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  uncomfortably. 

"  Guess,"  said  I,  sternly. 

"F-forty-three— -oh,  or  forty-two?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  timid  upward  glance. 

"  When  you  Ve  done  your  nonsense  —  "  began 
Mrs.  Hilary ;  but  I  laid  a  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Should  you  call  me  fat  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  /^/,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  with  a 
smile,  which  she  strove  to  render  reassuring. 

"  I  am  undoubtedly  bald,"  I  observed. 

"  You  're  certainly  bald,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
with  regretful  candour. 

I  took  my  hat  and  remarked,  — 

"  A  man  has  a  right  to  think  of  himself,  but  I 
am  not  thinking  mainly  of  myself  I  shall  not 
come  to  lunch." 

"  You  said  you  would,"  cried  Mrs.  Hilary, 
indignantly. 

I  poised  the  letter  in  my  hand,  reading  again, 
"Miss  M(aud)  E(lizabeth)  Bannerman."  Miss 
Phyllis  looked  at  me  curiously,  Mrs.  Hilary 
impatiently. 

"  Who  knows,"  said  I,  "  that  I  may  not  be  a 
Romance  —  a  Vanished  Dream  —  a  Green  Mem- 
ory —  an  Oasis  ?  A  person  who  has  the  fortune 
to  be  an  Oasis,  Miss  Phyllis,  should  be  very  care- 
ful.    I  will  not  come  to  lunch." 

1 1 1 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  used  to  know  Miss 
Bannerman  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hilary,  in  her  pleasant 
prosaic  way. 

It  was  a  sin  seventeen  years  old :  it  would 
hardly  count  against  the  blameless  Miss  Banner- 
man  now. 

"You  may  tell  her  when  I  'm  gone,"  said  I  to 
Miss  Phyllis. 

Miss  Phyllis  whispered  in  Mrs.  Hilary's  ear. 

"Another!  "  cried  Mrs.  Hilary,  aghast. 

"  It  was  the  very  first,"  said  I,  defending  myself. 

Mrs.  Hilary  began  to  laugh.  I  smoothed  my 
hat. 

"  Tell  her,"  said  I,  "  that  I  remembered  her 
very  well." 

"  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  And  tell  her,"  I  continued,  "  that  I  am  still 
handsome." 

"  I  shan't  say  a  word  about  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"  Ah,  well,  that  will  be  better  still,"  said  I. 

"  She  '11  have  forgotten  your  very  name," 
remarked  Mrs.   Hilary. 

I  opened  the  door,  but  a  thought  struck  me.  I 
turned  round  and  observed,  — 

"  I  dare  say  her  hair 's  just  as  soft  as  ever. 
Still  —  I  '11  lunch  some  other  day." 


112 


XIV 


ANCIENT    HISTORY 

'VE  been  hearing  something 
^  about  you,  Mr.  Carter,"  Dolly 
remarked,  stroking  the  Persian 
kitten  which  she  had  bought  to 
match  her  hair. 

"  I  'm  very  weak.     I  shall  like 
to  hear  it  too."     And  I  sat  down. 

Dolly  kissed  the  kitten  and  went  on.  "  About 
you  and  Dulcie  Mildmay." 

"  That 's  very  ancient  history,"  said  I,  rather 
disgusted. 

"  You  admit  it  is  history,  though  .?  " 
"  History  is  what  women  have  agreed  to  repeat, 
Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Oh,  if  you  're  going  to  take  it  like  that !  I 
thought  we  were  friends  —  and  —  " 

"  There  is  no  greater  mark  of  friendship,"  I 
observed,  "  than  a  complete  absence  of  interest  in 
one's  doings." 

"  An  absence  of  interest  ?  "    smiled  Dolly,  re- 
tying  the  kitten's  bow  in  a  meditative  way. 
8  113 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  It  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder  (not,  of 
course,  that  that's  desirable).  You  notice,  for 
example,  that  I  don't  ask  where  Archie  is.  It 's 
not  my  business  ;  it 's  enough  for  me  that  he  is  n't 
here." 

"  You  always  were  easily  pleased,"  said  Dolly, 
kindly. 

"  So  with  you  and  me.  When  we  are  together, 
we  are  —  " 

"  Friends,"  said  she,  with  a  touch  of  firmness, 
as  I  thought. 

"  We  are,  as  I  was  about  to  say,  happy.  When 
I  'm  away,  what  am  I  to  you  ?     Nothing  !  " 

"Well,  I  've  an  awful  lot  to  do,"  murmured 
Dolly. 

"And  what  are  you  to  me?  "  I  pursued.  "A 
pleasing  memory  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Carter.  But  about  Dulcie 
Mildmay  ?  " 

"  Very  well ;  only  I  wish  you  'd  be  a  little 
more  recent." 

"  You  were  in  love  with  her,  you  know." 

"  I  trust  I  'm  always  ready  to  learn,"  said  I, 
resignedly. 

"  Oh,  it 's  not  as  if  I  meant  there  was  anything 
—  anything  there  ought  n't  to  be." 

"  Then  indeed  we  would  discuss  it." 

"  It  was  long  before  she  married." 
114 


r><  '■  lui. ijot  l'!iii-i/-;i[«« 


/  've  been  henring  something  about  you,  Mr.   Carter^* 


ANCIENT    HISTORY 

*'  You  must  really  forgive  me  then.  She  mar- 
ried in  —  '94.  April  15th,  to  be  precise.  I  beg 
your  pardon.  Lady  Mickleham  ?  " 

"  I  just  smiled.  You  've  such  a  splendid  mem- 
ory for  dates." 

"  Uncle  Joseph  died  last  week  and  left  me  a 
legacy." 

"  It 's  really  no  use,  Mr.  Carter.  Mrs.  Hilary 
told  me  all  about  it." 

"  I  never  can  conceal  anything.  It  don't  do, 
from  Mrs.  Hilary." 

"You  very  nearly  proposed  to  Dulcie,  down  the 
river  one  day.  She  had  great  difficulty  in  stop- 
ping you." 

"  Preposterous  !  Is  there  ever  any  difficulty  in 
stopping  me  ^  " 

Dolly  placed  the  kitten  on  her  left  shoulder, 
so  that  it  could  rub  its  face  against  her  ear.  This 
action  had  all  the  effect  of  an  observation. 

"  Though  what  you  saw  in  her  I  can't  think," 
she  added. 

"You  should  have  asked  me  at  the  time,"  said  I. 

"Anyhow  you  were  quite  depressed  for  a  month 
afterwards  —  Mrs.  Hilary  said  so." 

"  Occasionally,"  I  remarked,  "  Mrs.  Hilary 
does  me  justice.  I  should  have  been  depressed 
only  —  " 

"  Only  what  ?  " 

115 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Thankfulness  supervened,"  said  L 

"  Then  you  did  nearly  —  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  I  was  a  little  tempted,  perhaps." 

"You  oughtn't  to  yield  to  temptation." 

"  Well,  somebody  must,  or  the  thing  becomes 
absurd,"  said  L 

"  I  shall  have  to  keep  my  eye  on  you,  Mr.  Carter." 

"Well,  I  like  having  pretty  things  about  me  — " 

"  That 's  rather  obvious,"  interrupted  Dolly, 
scornfully. 

"And  so,"  I  pursued,  "I  daresay  I  enjoyed 
myself  with  Dulcie   Mildmay." 

Dolly  put  the  kitten  down  on  the  floor  with 
quite  a  bump.     I  took  my  hat. 

"  Your  story,"  said  I,  as  I  brushed  my  hat, 
"  has  n't  come  to  much.  Lady   Mickleham." 

Dolly  was  not  put  out ;  nay,  she  picked  up  the 
kitten  again  and  started  rubbing  its  fur  the  wrong 
way. 

"When  you  were  a  child,  Mr.  Carter  — "  she 
began. 

"  Dear,  dear ! "  I  murmured,  stroking  the  crown 
of  my  head. 

"  Did  you  use  to  tell  the  truth  ?  " 

I  put  my  hat  back  on  the  table.  The  conversa- 
tion began  to  interest  me. 

"  You  may  have  noticed,"  said  I,  "  that  I  am  a 
man  of  method  !  " 

ii6 


ANCIENT    HISTORY 

"You  do  call  regularly,"  Dolly  agreed. 

"  I  was  the  same  at  the  B,  C.  sort  of  period  you 
refer  to.     I  had  an  invariable  rule.     I  lied  first." 

"  Yes,  and  then  —  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  made  a  row.  Then  I  told  the  truth, 
and  was  rewarded.  If  I  'd  told  the  truth  the  first 
time,  you  see,  I  should  have  got  nothing.  The 
thing  would  have  degenerated  into  a  matter  of 
course,  and  I  should  have  lost  the  benefit  of 
confession." 

"  You  got  off,  I  suppose,  by  confessing  ?  " 

"  I  did.  A  halcyon  period.  Lady  Mickleham. 
In  later  life  one  gets  off  by  professing.  Have  you 
observed  the  difference  ?  " 

"  Professing  what  ?  " 

"An  attachment  to  somebody  else,  to  be  sure. 
Were  n't  we  talking  of  Dulcie   Mildmay  ?  " 

"  I  asked  you  that  question  because  Mrs.  Hil- 
ary's little  girl — " 

"  I  am  acquainted  with  that  sad  episode,"  I 
interposed.  "  Indeed,  I  took  occasion  to  observe 
that  I  hoped  it  would  make  Mrs.  Hilary  more 
charitable  to  other  people.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it 
rather  pleased  me.  Righteousness  should  n't  run 
in  families.     It  is  all  very  well  as  a  *  Sport,'  but — " 

"  I  don't  see  much  sport  in  it,"  interrupted 
Dolly. 

"  I  was  speaking  scientifically  —  " 
117 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Then  please  don't."  She  paused  and  resumed 
in  a  thoughtful  tone.  "  It  reminded  me  of  my 
first  flirtation." 

"  This  is  indeed  ancient  history,"  I  cried. 

"Yes,  I  'm  twenty-four." 

In  silent  sympathy  we  stroked  opposite  ends  of 
the  Persian  kitten. 

"  I  did  n't  care  one  bit  about  him,"  Dolly 
assumed. 

"Art  for  art's  sake,"  said  I,  nodding  approvingly. 

"  But  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  and  —  " 

"  Are  you  busy  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  sixteen  and  not  very  particular.  I 
met  him  at  the  Wax-Works  —  " 

"  Are  they  so  called  because  they  make  parents 
angry  r 

"There  was  a  hospital  close  to,  and  by  an  un- 
lucky chance  our  Vicar  induced  mamma  to  visit  it. 
Well,  we  ran  into  mamma  coming  out,  you  see." 

"  What  happened  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  said  I  'd  met  him  when  I  was  with  papa 
at  Kissingen.     Don't  make  another  pun,  please." 

"  Did  papa  play  up  ?  " 

"  I  had  n't  time  to  see  him  first,"  said  Dolly, 
sadly.  "  Mamma  drove  down  and  picked  him  up 
in  the  City." 

"  I  detest  a  suspicious  temperament  like  that," 
said  I.     "  What  did  it  come  to  ?  " 

ii8 


ANCIENT    HISTORY 

"  No  parties,  and  extra  French  for  weeks," 
sighed  Dolly.  "  Mamma  said  she  would  n't  have 
minded  if  only  I  'd  spoken  the  truth." 

"  If  she  really  meant  that,"  I  remarked  cau- 
tiously, "there  was  the  basis  of  an  understanding." 

"  Of  course  she  did  n't.  That  was  just  rubbing 
it  in,  you  know." 

We  relapsed  into  a  pensive  silence.  Dolly  gave 
the  kitten  milk,  I  pulled  its  tail.  We  had  become 
quite  thoughtful. 

"  I  always  tell  the  truth  now,  except  to  the 
Dowager,"  said  Dolly,  presently. 

"  It  does  n't  do  to  be  quixotic,"  I  agreed. 
"  Telling  the  truth  to  people  who  misunderstand 
you  is  really  promoting  falsehood,  is  n't  it?" 

"  That 's  rather  a  good  idea,"  said  Dolly. 
"And  if  you  — " 

"  Adapt  ? " 

"  Yes  —  why  then  they  get  it  just  right,  don't 
they  ?  You  think  of  quite  sensible  things  some- 
times, Mr.  Carter." 

"  Often  when  I  'm  not  with  you,"  said  I. 

"And  I  suppose  you  adapted  in  telling  me 
about  Dulcie  Mildmay  ?," 

"  Do  you  know,  I  've  a  sort  of  idea  that  I  con- 
fused her  with  somebody  else." 

"  That 's  not  very  complimentary." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  remember  the  scene  so 
119 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

well.     It  was  in  a  backwater  under  a  tree.     There 
was  a  low  bough  over  the  water,  and  she  —  " 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Dolly,  resuming  exclusive 
possession  of  the  kitten. 

"  Well,  whoever  it  was  —  hung  her  hat  on  the 
bough.  It  was  about  eight  o'clock,  a  very  pleas- 
ant evening.  I  happen  to  recollect  that  the 
cushions  were  blue.  And  she  wore  blue.  And  I 
was  blue,  until  —  Did  you  say  that  she  refused 
me  r 

"  Mrs.  Hilary  says  she  did  n't  let  it  come  to 
that." 

"  Mrs.  Hilary  is  right  as  usual.  We  got  home 
at  ten  and  —  Your  mother  could  n't  have  meant 
what  she  said,   I  think." 

"  I  don't  see  how  mamma  comes  in,"  said  Dolly, 
in  a  voice  muffled  by  kitten  fur. 

"  Because  her  mother  minded  considerably, 
although  we  spoke  the  truth." 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for  ?  "  asked  Dolly, 
reprovingly. 

"  Oh,  because  other  people  had  seen  us  from  a 
punt.  So  we  just  said  that  time  had  flown  —  not, 
perhaps,  a  particularly  tactful  thing  to  say.  And 
that's  the  whole  truth  about  Dulcie  Mildmay." 

I  rose  and  took  my  hat  again,  as  if  I  meant  it 
this  time  too.  Dolly  rose  too,  and  held  out  one 
hand  to  me ;  the  other  contained  the  kitten. 

1 20 


ANCIENT    HISTORY 

"  What  was  the  hat  like  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"Just  such  a  hat  as  you  'dwear  yourself,"  said  I. 

"  I  never  wear  hats  like  Dulcie  Mildmay's." 

"  I  told  you  there  was  a  mistake  somewhere," 
I  observed  triumphantly. 

Dolly  smiled;  she  looked  up  at  me  (well,  I 'm 
taller  than  she  is,  of  course). 

"  Yes,  I  expect  there  is,"  said  she.  "  But  do 
you  see  any  particular  good  in  telling  Mrs.  Hilary 
so  r 

"  She  would  n't  believe  it." 

«  No  —  and  —  " 

"  It  is,  as  you  observe,  so  uncomplimentary  to 
Mrs.  Mildmay." 

"  And  it 's  all  such  very  Ancient  History  !  " 

I  don't  think  anything  more  of  interest  oc- 
curred that  afternoon  —  anyhow  nothing  more 
about  Dulcie  Mildmay. 


121 


XV 


A   FINE    DAY 

SEE  nothing  whatever  to  laugh 
at,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  coldly,  when 
I  had  finished. 

"  I  did  not  ask  you  to  laugh," 
I  observed  mildly.    "I  mentioned 
it  merely  as  a  typical  case." 
"It's  not  typical,"  she  said,  and  took  up  her 
embroidery.     But  a  moment  later  she  added, — 
"  Poor  boy  !     I  'm  not  surprised  !  " 
"  I  'm  not  surprised  either,"  I  remarked.    "  It 
is,  however,  extremely  deplorable." 

"  It 's  your  own  fault.  Why  did  you  Introduce 
him  ? " 

"  A  book,"  I  observed,  "  might  be  written  on 
the  Injustice  of  the  Just.  How  could  I  suppose 
that  he  would  —  ?  " 

By  the  way,  I  may  as  well  state  what  he  — 
that  Is,  my  young  cousin  George  —  had  done. 
Unless  one  Is  a  genius.  It  is  best  to  aim  at  being 
Intelligible. 

Well,  he  was  in  love  ;  and  with  a  view  of  pro- 
viding him  with  another  house  at  which  he  might 


A    FINE    DAY 

be  likely  to  meet  the  adored  object,  I  presented 
him  to  my  friend  Lady  Mickleham.  That  was  on 
a  Tuesday.  A  fortnight  later,  as  I  was  sitting  in 
Hyde  Park  (as  I  sometimes  do),  George  came 
up  and  took  the  chair  next  to  me.  I  gave 
him  a  cigarette,  but  made  no  remark.  George 
beat  his  cane  restlessly  against  the  leg  of  his 
trousers. 

"  I  've  got  to  go  up  to-morrow,"  he  remarked. 

"Ah,  well,  Oxford  is  a  delightful  town,"  said  I. 

"  D — d  hole,"  observed  George. 

I  was  about  to  contest  this  opinion  when  a  vic- 
toria drove  by. 

A  girl  sat  in  it,  side  by  side  with  a  portly 
lady. 

"  George,  George  !  "  I  cried.  "  There  she  is  — 
Look  !  " 

George  looked,  raised  his  hat  with  sufficient 
politeness,  and  remarked  to  me, — 

"Hang  it  !  one  sees  those  people  everywhere." 

I  am  not  easily  surprised,  but  I  confess  I  turned 
to  George  with  an  expression  of  wonder. 

"  A  fortnight  ago  —  "I  began. 

"  Don't  be  an  ass,  Sam,"  said  George,  rather 
sharply.  "She's  not  a  bad  girl,  but — "  He 
broke  off  and  began  to  whistle. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  I  lit  a  cigar,  and 
looked  at  the  people. 

123 


THE  DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  lunched  at  the  Micklehams'  to-day,"  said 
George,  drawing  a  figure  on  the  gravel  with  his 
cane.     "  Mickleham  's  not  a  bad  fellow." 

"One  of  the  best  fellows  alive,"  I  agreed. 

"  I  wonder  why  she  married  him,  though," 
mused  George  ;  and  he  added,  with  apparent  irrel- 
evance, "  It's  a  dashed  bore,  going  up."  And 
then  a  smile  spread  over  his  face ;  a  blush  accom- 
panied it,  and  proclaimed  George's  sense  of  deli- 
cious wickedness.     I   turned  on  him. 

"  Out  with  it !  "  said  I. 

"  It 's  nothing.     Don't  be  a  fool,"  said  George. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  rose  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  This  rose  ?  "  he  repeated,  fondling  the  blos- 
som.    "  It  was  given  to  me." 

Upon  this  I  groaned  —  and  I  still  consider  that 
I  had  good  reason  for  my  action.  It  was  the  groan 
of  a  moralist. 

"  They  've  asked  me  to  stay  at  The  Towers 
next  vac,"  said  George,  glancing  at  me  out  of  the 
corner  of  an  immoral  eye.  Perhaps  he  thought  it 
too  immoral,  for  he  added,  "  It 's  all  right,  Sam." 
I  believe  that  I  have  as  much  self-control  as  most 
people,  but  at  this  point  I  chuckled. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  laughing  at  ?  "  asked 
George. 

I  made  no  answer,  and  he  went  on,  — 

"  You  never  told  me  what  a  —  what  she  was 
124 


A    FINE    DAY 

like,  Sam.      Wanted  to  keep  it  to  yourself,  you 
old  dog." 

"  George  —  George  —  George  !  "  said  I.  "You 
go  up  to-morrow  ^  " 

"  Yes,  confound  it !  " 

"And  term  lasts  two  months  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  hang  it !  " 

"All  is  well,"  said  I,  crossing  my  legs.  "There 
is  more  virtue  in  two  months  than  in  Ten  Com- 
mandments," 

George  regarded  me  with  a  dispassionate  air. 

"  You  're  an  awful  ass  sometimes,"  he  observed 
critically,  and  he  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  Must  you  go  ?  "  said  I. 

"Yes  —  got  a  lot  of  things  to  do.  Look  here, 
Sam,  don't  go  and  talk  about  —  " 

"  Talk  about  what  ?  " 

"  Anything,  you  old  idiot,"  said  George,  with  a 
pleased  smile,  and  he  dug  me  in  the  ribs  with  his 
cane,  and  departed. 

I  sat  on,  admiring  the  simple  elements  which 
constitute  the  happiness  of  the  young.  Alas!  with 
advancing  years,  Wrong  loses  half  its  flavour  !  To 
be  improper  ceases,  by  itself,  to  satisfy. 

Immersed  in  these  reflections,  I  failed  to 
notice  that  a  barouche  had  stopped  opposite  to 
me  ;  and  suddenly  I  found  a  footman  addressing 
me. 

125 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said.  "  Her  lady- 
ship wishes  to  speak  to  you." 

"  It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  be  young,  Martin,"  I 
observed. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Martin.     "It 's  a  fine  day,  sir." 

"But  very  short,"  said  I.  Martin  is  respectful, 
and  said  nothing  —  to  me,  at  least.  What  he  said 
to  the  coachman,  I  don't  know. 

And  then  I  went  up  to  Dolly. 

"  Get  in  and  drive  round,"  suggested  Dolly. 

"  I  can't,"  said  I.     "  I  have  a  bad  nose." 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  your  nose  ?  "  asked 
Dolly,  smiling. 

"  The  joint  is  injured,"  said  I,  getting  into  the 
barouche.  And  I  added  severely,  "  I  suppose  I  'd 
better  sit  with  my  back  to  the  horses  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  're  not  my  husband,"  said  Dolly. 
"  Sit  here ;  "  and  she  made  room  by  her,  as  she 
continued,  "  I   rather  like  Mr.  George." 

"  I  'm  ashamed  of  you,"  I  observed.  "  Con- 
sidering your  age  —  " 

"  Mr.  Carter!" 

"  Considering,  I  say,  his  age,  your  conduct  is 
scandalous.  I  shall  never  introduce  any  nice  boys 
to  you  again." 

"Oh,  please  do,"  said  Dolly, clasping  her  hands. 

"  You  give  them  roses,"  said  I,  accusingly. 
"  You  make  them  false  to  their  earliest  loves  —  " 

126 


W  *'i 


•i    nMiiJlBC  C'pri^ty    r^ii?^ 


"  He  'j  a  nice  hos''  said  she.      "  Hot 
like    be    is   to   you,    Mr.    Carter' 


A    FINE    DAY 

"She  was  a  pudding-faced  thing,"  observed 
Dolly. 

I  frowned.  Dolly,  by  an  accident,  allowed  the 
tip  of  her  finger  to  touch  my  arm  for  an  instant. 

"  He  's  a  nice  boy,"  said  she.  "  How  like  he 
is  to  you,  Mr.   Carter  !  " 

"  I  am  a  long  way  past  that,"  said  I.  "  I  am 
thirty-six." 

"  If  you  mean  to  be  disagreeable  !  "  said  she, 
turning  away.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  for  touching 
you,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  I  did  not  notice  it,  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Would  you  like  to  get  out  ?  " 

"It's  miles  from  my  club,"  said  I,  discontentedly. 

"  He  's  such  fun,"  said  Dolly,  with  a  sudden 
smile.  "  He  told  Archie  that  I  was  the  most 
charming  woman  in  London  !  You  've  never 
done  that !  " 

"He  said  the  same  about  the  pudding-faced 
girl,"   I  observed. 

There  was  a  pause.     Then  Dolly  asked, — 

"  How  is  your  nose  ?  " 

"The  carriage-exercise  is  doing  it  good,"  said  I. 

"  If,"  observed  Dolly,  "  he  is  so  silly  now,  what 
will  he  be  at  your  age  ?  " 

"A  wise  man,"  said  I. 

"  He  suggested  that  I  might  write  to  him," 
bubbled  Dolly. 

127 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Now  when  Dolly  bubbles  —  an  operation  which 
includes  a  sudden  turn  towards  me,  a  dancing  of 
eyes,  a  dart  of  a  small  hand,  a  hurried  rush  of 
words,  checked  and  confused  by  a  speedier  gust 
of  gurgling  sound  —  I  am  in  the  habit  of  ceasing 
to  argue  the  question.  Bubbling  is  not  to  be  met 
by  arguing.     I  could  only  say,  — 

"He  '11  have  forgotten  by  the  end  of  the  term." 

"  He  '11  remember  two  days  later,"  retorted 
Dolly. 

"Stop  the  carriage,"  said  I.  "  I  shall  tell  Mrs. 
Hilary  all  about  it." 

"I  won't  stop  the  carriage,"  said  Dolly.  "  I  'm 
going  to  take  you  home  with  me." 

"1  am  at  a  premium  to-day,"  I  said  sardonically. 

"One  must  have  something,"  said  Dolly.  " How 
is  your  nose  now,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

I  looked  at  Dolly.  I  had  better  not  have  done 
that. 

"  Would  afternoon  tea  hurt  it  ?  "  she  inquired 
anxiously. 

"It  would  do  it  good,"  said  I,  decisively. 

And  that  is  absolutely  the  whole  story.  And 
what  in  the  world  Mrs.  Hilary  found  to  disap^ 
prove  of  I  don't  know  —  especially  as  I  did  n't  tell 
her  half  of  it!  But  she  did  disapprove.  However, 
she  looks  very  well  when  she  disapproves. 


128 


XVI 


THE   HOUSE   OPPOSITE 

)E  were  talking  over  the  sad  case 
of  young  Algy  Groom ;  I  was 
explaining  to  Mrs.  Hilary  ex- 
actly what  had  happened. 

"  His  father  gave  him,"  said  I, 
"  a  hundred  pounds,  to  keep  him 
for  three  months  in  Paris  while  he  learnt  French." 
"  And  very  liberal  too,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 
"  It  depends  where  you  dine,"  said  I.    "  How- 
ever, that  question  did  not  arise,  for  Algy  went  to 
the  Grand  Prix  the  day  after  he  arrived  —  " 

"  A  horse  race  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Hilary,  with  great 
contempt. 

"  Certainly  the  competitors  are  horses,"  I  re- 
joined. "  And  there  he,  most  unfortunately,  lost 
the  whole  sum,  without  learning  any  French  to 
speak  of." 

"  How  disgusting  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hilary, 
and  little   Miss  Phyllis  gasped  in  horror. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Hilary,  with  much  bravery  (as 
it  struck  me),  "  his  father 's  very  well  off." 

9  129 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  That  does  n't  make  it  a  bit  better,"  declared 
his  wife. 

"  There  's  no  mortal  sin  in  a  little  betting,  my 
dear.     Boys  will  be  boys  — " 

"  And  even  that,"  I  interposed,  "  would  n't  mat- 
ter if  we  could  only  prevent  girls  from  being  girls." 

Mrs.  Hilary,  taking  no  notice  whatever  of  me, 
pronounced  sentence.  "  He  grossly  deceived  his 
father,"  she  said,  and  took  up  her  embroidery. 

"  Most  of  us  have  grossly  deceived  our  parents 
before  now,"  said  I.  "  We  should  all  have  to  con- 
fess to  something  of  the  sort." 

"  I  hope  you  're  speaking  for  your  own  sex," 
observed  Mrs.   Hilary. 

"  Not  more  than  yours,"  said  L  "  You  used  to 
meet  Hilary  on  the  pier  when  your  father  was  n't 
there  —  you  told  me  so." 

"  Father  had  authorised  my  acquaintance  with 
Hilary." 

"  I  hate  quibbles,"  said  I. 

There  was  a  pause.  Mrs.  Hilary  stitched : 
Hilary  observed  that  the  day  was  fine. 

"  Now,"  I  pursued  carelessly,  "  even  Miss 
Phyllis  here  has  been  known  to  deceive  her 
parents." 

"  Oh,  let  the  poor  child  alone,  anyhow,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Have  n't  you  ?  "  said  I  to  Miss  Phyllis. 
130 


THE    HOUSE    OPPOSITE 

I  expected  an  indignant  denial.  So  did  Mrs. 
Hilary,  for  she  remarked  with  a  sympathetic  air,  — 

"  Never  mind  his  folly,  Phyllis  dear." 

"  Have  n't  you,  Miss  Phyllis  ?  "  said  I. 

Miss  Phyllis  grew  very  red.  Fearing  that  I 
was  causing  her  pain,  I  was  about  to  observe  on 
the  prospects  of  a  Dissolution  when  a  shy  smile 
spread  over  Miss  Phyllis's  face. 

"  Yes,  once,"  said  she,  with  a  timid  glance  at 
Mrs.  Hilary,  who  immediately  laid  down  her 
embroidery. 

"  Out  with  it,"  I  cried  triumphantly.  "  Come 
along.  Miss  Phyllis.  We  won't  tell,  honour 
bright ! " 

Miss  Phyllis  looked  again  at  Mrs.  Hilary. 
Mrs.   Hilary  is  human. 

"  Well,  Phyllis  dear,"  said  she,  "  after  all  this 
time  I  should  n't  think  it  my  duty  — " 

"  It  only  happened  last  summer,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis. 

Mrs.  Hilary  looked  rather  put  out. 

"  Still,"  she  began. 

"  We  must  have  the  story,"  said  I. 

Little  Miss  Phyllis  put  down  the  sock  she  had 
been  knitting. 

"  I  was  very  naughty,"  she  remarked.  "  It  was 
my  last  term  at  school." 

"  I  know  that  age,"  said  I  to  Hilary. 
131 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  My  window  looked  out  towards  the  street. 
You  're  sure  you  won't  tell  ?  Well,  there  was  a 
house  opposite  — " 

"  And  a  young  man  in  it,"  said  L 

"  How  did  you  know  that  ?  "  asked  Miss  Phyl- 
lis, blushing  immensely. 

"  No  girls'  school  can  keep  up  its  numbers 
without  one,"  I  explained. 

"Well,  there  was,  anyhow,"  said  Miss  Phyllis. 
"  And  I  and  two  other  girls  went  to  a  course  of 
lectures  at  the  Town  Hall  on  literature  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind.  We  used  to  have  a  shiUing 
given  us  for  our  tickets." 

"  Precisely,"  said  L     "  A  hundred  pounds  !  " 

"  No,  a  shilling,"  corrected  Miss  Phyllis.  "A 
hundred  pounds !  How  absurd,  Mr.  Carter ! 
Well,  one  day  I  —  I  — " 

"  You  're  sure  you  wish  to  go  on,  Phyllis  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"You're  afraid,  Mrs.  Hilary,"  said  I,  severely. 

"Nonsense,  Mr.  Carter.  I  thought  Phyllis 
might  —  " 

"  I  don't  mind  going  on,"  said  Miss  Phyllis, 
smiling.     "  One  day  I  —  I  lost  the  other  girls." 

"  The  other  girls  are  always  easy  to  lose,"  I 
observed. 

"  And  on  the  way  there,  —  oh,  you  know,  he 
went  to  the  lectures." 

132 


THE    HOUSE    OPPOSITE 

"  The  young  dog,"  said  I,  nudging  Hilary.  "  I 
should  think  he  did !  " 

"  On  the  way  there  it  became  rather  —  rather 

"Blessings  on  it!"  I  cried;  for  little  Miss 
Phyllis's  demure  but  roguish  expression  delighted 
me. 

"And  he  —  he  found  me  in  the  fog." 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Mr.  Carter  ?  "  cried 
Mrs.  Hilary,  angrily. 

"Nothing,  nothing,"  said  I.  I  believe  I  had 
winked  at  Hilary. 

"And —  and  we  could  n't  find  the  Town  Hall." 

"  Oh,  Phyllis  !"  groaned  Mrs.  Hilary. 

Little  Miss  Phyllis  looked  alarmed  for  a  mo- 
ment.    Then  she  smiled. 

"  But  we  found  the  confectioner's,"  said  she. 

"  The  Grand  Prix^'  said  I,  pointing  my  fore- 
finger at  Hilary. 

"  He  had  no  money  at  all,"  said  Miss  Phyllis. 

"  It's  ideal!"  said  I. 

"  And  —  and  we  had  tea  on  — on  — " 

"  The  shilling  ?  "  I  cried  in  rapture. 

"  Yes,"  said  little  Miss  Phyllis,  "  on  the  shilling. 
And  he  saw  me  home." 

"  Details,  please,"  said  I. 

Little  Miss  Phyllis  shook  her  head. 

"  And  left  me  at  the  door." 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Was  it  still  foggy  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Yes.     Or  he  wouldn't  have — " 

"  Now  what  did  he  —  ?  " 

"  Come  to  the  door,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Miss 
Phyllis,  with  obvious  wariness.  "  Oh,  it  was  such 
fun  ! " 

"  I  'm  sure  it  was." 

"  No,  I  mean  when  we  were  examined  in  the 
lectures.  I  bought  the  local  paper,  you  know, 
and  read  it  up,  and  I  got  top  marks  easily,  and 
Miss  Green  wrote  to  mother  to  say  how  well  I 
had  done." 

"  It  all  ends  most  satisfactorily,"  I  observed. 

"  Yes,  did  n't  it  ?  "  said  little  Miss  Phyllis. 

Mrs.  Hilary  was  grave  again. 

"  And  you  never  told  your  mother,  Phyllis  !  " 
she  asked. 

"  N-no,  Cousin  Mary,"  said  Miss  Phyllis. 

I  rose  and  stood  with  my  back  to  the  fire. 
Little  Miss  Phyllis  took  up  her  sock  again,  but 
a  smile  still  played  about  the  corners  of  her 
mouth. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  I,  looking  up  at  the  ceiling, 
"  what  happened  at  the  door."  Then,  as  no  one 
spoke,  I  added, — 

"  Pooh  !  I  know  what  happened  at  the  door." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  tell  you  anything  more," 
said  Miss  Phyllis. 

134 


THE    HOUSE    OPPOSITE 

"  But  I  should  like  to  hear  it  in  your  own  — " 

Miss  Phyllis  was  gone  !  She  had  suddenly  risen 
and  run  from  the  room. 

"  It  did  happen  at  the  door,"  said  I. 

"  Fancy  Phyllis  !  "  mused  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  I  hope,"  said  I,  "that  it  will  be  a  lesson  to 
you. 

"  I  shall  have  to  keep  my  eye  on  her,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  You  can't  do  it,"  said  I,  in  easy  confidence.  I 
had  no  fear  of  little  Miss  Phyllis  being  done  out 
of  her  recreations.  "  Meanwhile,"  I  pursued, 
"  the  important  thing  is  this :  my  parallel  is  obvi- 
ous and  complete." 

"  There 's  not  the  least  likeness,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary,  sharply. 

"As  a  hundred  pounds  are  to  a  shilling,  so  is 
the  Grand  Prix  to  the  young  man  opposite,"  I 
observed,  taking  my  hat,  and  holding  out  my  hand 
to  Mrs.  Hilary. 

" I  am  very  angry  with  you,"  she  said.  "You  've 
made  the  child  think  there  was  nothing  v/rong  in  it." 

"  Oh  !  nonsense,"  said  I.  "  Look  how  she  en- 
joyed telling  it." 

Then,  not  heeding  Mrs.  Hilary,  I  launched  into 
an  apostrophe. 

"O  divine  House  Opposite!"  I  cried.  "Charm- 
ing House  Opposite  !     What  is  a  man's  own  dull 

135 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

uneventful  home  compared  with  that  Glorious 
House  Opposite  !  If  only  I  might  dwell  for  ever 
in  the  House  Opposite  !  " 

"  I  have  n't  the  least  notion  what  you  mean," 
remarked  Mrs.  Hilary,  stiffly.  "  I  suppose  it 's 
something  silly  —  or  worse." 

I  looked  at  her  in  some  puzzle. 

"  Have  you  no  longing  for  the  House  Op- 
posite?"  I   asked. 

Mrs.  Hilary  looked  at  me.  Her  eyes  ceased  to 
be  absolutely  blank.  She  put  her  arm  through 
Hilary's  and  answered  gently,  — 

"  I  don't  want  the  House  Opposite." 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  giving  my  hat  a  brush,  "  but 
maybe  you  remember  the  House- — when  it  was 
Opposite  ?  " 

Mrs.  Hilary,  one  arm  still  in  Hilary's  gave  me 
her  hand. 

She  blushed  and  smiled. 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  it  was  your  fault :  so  I 
won't  scold  Phyllis." 

"No,  don't,  my  dear,"  said  Hilary,  with  a  laugh. 

As  for  me,  I  went  downstairs,  and,  in  absence 
of  mind,  bade  my  cabman  drive  to  the  House 
Opposite.     But  I  have  never  got  there. 


136 


XVII 


A    QUICK    CHANGE 

|HY  not  go  with  Archie?"  I  asked, 
spreading  out  my  hands. 

"  It  will  be  dull  enough,  any- 
how," said  Dolly,  fretfully.     "  Be- 
sides, it 's  awfully  bourgeois  to  go 
to  the  theatre  with  one's  husband." 
"  Bourgeois,''  I   observed,  "  is  an  epithet  which 
the  riff-raff  apply  to  what  is   respectable,  and  the 
aristocracy  to  what  is  decent." 

"  But  it 's  not  a  nice  thing  to  be,  all  the  same," 
said  Dolly,  who  is  impervious  to  the  most  pene- 
trating remark. 

"You're  in  no  danger  of  it,"  I  hastened  to 
assure   her. 

"  How  should  you  describe  me,  then  ? "  she 
asked,  leaning  forward,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  should  describe  you.  Lady  Mickleham,"  I 
replied  discreetly,  "  as  being  a  little  lower  than  the 
angels." 

Dolly's  smile  was  almost  a  laugh  as  she  asked. 
"  How  much  lower,  please,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 
"Just  by  the   depth  of  your  dimples,"  said  I, 
thoughtlessly. 

^Z7 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Dolly  became  immensely  grave. 

"  I  thought,"  said  she,  "  that  we  never  men- 
tioned them  now,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  Did  we  ever  ?  "  I  asked  innocently. 

"  I  seemed  to  remember  once  :  do  you  recollect 
being  in  very  low  spirits  one  evening  at  Monte  ?  " 

"I  remember  being  in  very  low  water  more  than 
one  evening  there." 

"Yes:  you  told  me  you  were  terribly  hard  up." 

"  There  was  an  election  in  our  division  that 
year,"  I  remarked,  "  and  I  remitted  thirty  per 
cent  of  my  rents." 

"  You  did  —  to  M.  Blanc,"  said  Dolly.  "  Oh, 
and  you  were  very  dreary !  You  said  you  'd  wasted 
your  life  and  your  time  and  your  opportunities." 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  suppose  I  never  have  any 
proper  feelings,"  said  I,  complacently. 

"  I  think  you  were  hardly  yourself." 

"  Do  be  more  charitable." 

"  And  you  said  that  your  only  chance  was  in 
gaining  the  affection  of — " 

"  Surely  I  was  not  such  an  —  so  foolish  ?  "  I 
implored. 

"Yes,   you  were.      You  were  sitting  close  by 

>> 

me  — 

"  Oh,  then,  it  does  n't  count,"  said  I,  rallying  a 
little. 

"  On  a  bench.     You  remember  the  bench  ^  '* 
^3^ 


••  Ton  were  sitting  close  by  me  —  on  a  bench  " 


A    QUICK    CHANGE 

"  No,  I   don't,"   said   I,  with  a  kind  but  firm 
smile. 

"  Not  the  bench  ?  " 

"  No." 

Dolly  looked  at  me,  then  she  asked  in  an  insin- 
uating tone,  — 

"  When  did  you  forget  it,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"The  day  you  were  buried,"  I  rejoined. 

"I  see.    Well,  you  said  then  what  you  could  n't 
possibly  have  meant." 

"  I  dare  say.     I  often  did." 

"  That  they  were  —  " 

"  That  what  were  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  —  the  —  what  we  're  talking  about." 

"What  we  were  —  f     Oh,  to  be  sure,  the  —  the 
blemishes  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  blemishes.     You  said  they  were  the 
most  —  " 

"Oh,  well,  it  was  Tifa^on  de parlerT 

"  I  was  afraid  you  were  n't  a  bit  sincere,"  said 
Dolly,   humbly. 

"  Well,  judge   me  by  yourself,"  said  I,  with  a 
candid  air. 

"  But  I  said  nothing  !  "  cried  Dolly. 

"  It  was  incomparably  the  most  artistic  thing  to 
do,"  said  I. 

"  I  'm  sometimes  afraid  you  don't  do  me  justice, 
Mr.  Carter,"  remarked  Dolly,  with  some  pathos. 

^19 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

I  did  not  care  to  enter  upon  that  discussion,  and 
a  pause  followed.  Then  Dolly,  in  a  timid  manner, 
asked  me,  — 

"  Do  you  remember  the  dreadful  thing  that 
happened  the  same  evening  ?  " 

"  That  chances  to  remain  in  my  memory,"  I 
admitted. 

"  I  've  always  thought  it  kind  of  you  never  to 
speak  of  it,"  said  she. 

"  It  is  best  forgotten,"  said  I,  smiHng. 

"  We  should  have  said  the  same  about  any- 
body," protested  Dolly. 

"  Certainly.  We  were  only  trying  to  be  smart," 
said  I. 

"  And  it  was  horribly  unjust." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Besides,   I   did  n't  know  anything  about  him 

then.       He    had    only     arrived    that    day,     you 

»> 

see. 

"  Really  we  were  not  to  blame,"  I  urged. 

"  Oh,  but  does  n't  it  seem  funny  ?  " 

"  A  strange  whirligig,  no  doubt,"  I  mused. 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  the  faintest  of  smiles 
appeared  on  Dolly's  face. 

"  He  should  n't  have  worn  such  clothes,"  she 
said,  as  though  in  self-defence.  "  Anybody  would 
have  looked  absurd  in  them." 

"It  was  all  the  clothes,"  I  agreed.  "  Besides, 
140 


A   QUICK    CHANGE 

when   a   man   does  n't    know  a  place,  he    always 
moons  about  and  looks  — " 

"  Yes.       Rather    awkward,    does  n't    he,   Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

"  And  the  mere  fact  of  his  looking  at  you  —  " 

"  At  us,  please." 

"  Is  nothing,  although  we  made  a  grievance  of 
it  at  the  time." 

"  That  was  very  absurd  of  you,"  said  Dolly. 

"  It  was  certainly  unreasonable  of  us,"  said  I. 

"  We  ought  to  have  known  he  was  a  gentleman." 

"  But  we  scouted  the  idea  of  it,"  said  I. 

"  It  was  a  most  curious  mistake  to  make,"  said 
Dolly. 

"  Oh,  well,  it 's  all  put  right  now,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Carter,  do  you  remember  mamma's 
face  when  we  described  him  ?  " 

"  That  was  a  terrible  moment,"  said  I,  with  a 
shudder. 

"I  said  he  was  —  ugly,"  whispered  Dolly. 

"  And  I  said  —  something  worse,"  murmured  I. 

"  And  mamma  knew  at  once  from  our  descrip- 
tion that  it  was — " 

"  She  saw  it  in  a  minute,"  said  I. 

"  And  then  you  went  away." 

"  Well,  I  rather  suppose  I  did,"  said  I. 

"  Mamma  is  just  a  little  like  the  Dowager  some- 
times," said  Dolly. 

141 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  There  is  a  touch  now  and  then,"  I  conceded. 

"  And  when  I  was  introduced  to  him  the  next 
day  I  absolutely  blushed." 

"  I  don't  altogether  wonder  at  that,"  I  observed. 

"  But  it  was  n't  as  if  he'd  heard  what  we  were 
saying." 

"  No  ;  but  he  'd  seen  what  we  were  doing." 

"  Well,  what  were  we  doing  ? "  cried  Dolly, 
defiantly. 

"  Conversing  confidentially,"  said  I. 

"  And  a  week  later  you  went  home  !  " 

"  Just  one  week  later,"  said  I. 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  Well,  you  '11  take  me  to  the  theatre  ?  "  asked 
Dolly,  with  something  which,  if  I  were  so  dis- 
posed, I   might  consider  a  sigh. 

"  I  've  seen  the  piece  twice,"  said  I. 

"  How  tiresome  of  you  !  You  've  seen  every- 
thing twice." 

"  I  've  seen  some  things  much  oftener,"  I 
observed. 

"  I  '11  get  a  nice  girl  for  you  to  talk  to,  and  I  'II 
have  a  young  man." 

"  I  don't  want  my  girl  to  be  too  nicey'  I 
observed. 

"  She  shall  be  pretty,"  said  Dolly,  generously. 

"  I  don't  mind  if  I  do  come  with  you,"  said  I. 
"  What  becomes  of  Archie  .''" 

142 


A    QUICK    CHANGE 

"He's  going  to  take  his  mother  and  sisters  to 
the  Albert  Hall." 

My  face  brightened. 

"  I  am  unreasonable,"  I  admitted. 

"  Sometimes  you  are,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for.  Have  you 
ever  observed  a  small  boy  eat  a  penny  ice  ? " 

"Of  course  I  have,"  said  Dolly. 

"  What  does  he  do  when  he's  finished  it?  " 

"  Stops,  I  suppose." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  I,  "he  licks  the  glass." 

"  Yes,  he  does,"  said  Dolly,  meditatively. 

"  It's  not  so  bad,  —  licking  the  glass,"  said  I. 

Dolly  stood  opposite  me,  smiling.  At  this  mo- 
ment Archie  entered.  He  had  been  working  at 
his  lathe.  He  is  very  fond  of  making  things 
which  he  does  n't  want,  and  then  giving  them  to 
people  who  have  no  use  for  them. 

"  How  are  you,  old  chap  ?"  he  began.  "  I  've 
just  finished  an  uncommon  pretty  —  " 

He  stopped,  paralysed  by  a  cry  from  Dolly,  — 

"  Archie,  what  in  the  world  are  you  wearing  ?  " 

I  turned  a  startled  gaze  upon  Archie. 

"  It's  just  an  old  suit  I  routed  out,"  said  he, 
apologetically. 

I  looked  at  Dolly  ;  her  eyes  were  close  shut, 
and  she  gasped,  — 

"  My  dear,  dear  boy,  go  and  change  it !  " 
143 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  I  don't  see  why  it's  not  —  " 

"  Go  and  change  it,  if  you  love  me,"  besought 
Dolly. 

"  Oh,  all  right." 

"  You  look  hideous  in  it,"  she  said,  her  eyes 
still  shut. 

Archie,  who  is  very  docile,  withdrew.  A  guilty 
silence  reigned  for  some  moments.  Then  Dolly 
opened  her  eyes. 

"  It  was  the  suit,"  she  said,  with  a  shudder. 
"  Oh,  how  it  all  came  back  to  me  !  " 

"  I  could  wish,"  I  observed,  taking  my  hat, 
"that  it  would  all  come  back  to  me," 

"  I  wonder  if  you  mean  that !  " 

"  As  much  as  I  ever  did,"  said  I,  earnestly. 

"  And  that  is  —  ?" 

"  Quite  enough." 

"  How  tiresome  you  are !  "  she  said,  turning 
away  with  a  smile. 

Outside  I  met  Archie  in  another  suit. 

"  A  quick  change,  eh,  my  boy  ?  "  said  he. 

"  It  took  just  a  week,"  I  remarked  absently. 

Archie  stared. 


144 


XVIII 

A   SLIGHT    MISTAKE 

DON'T  ask  you  for  more  than  a 
M  guinea,"   said   Mrs.   Hilary,   with 
a  parade  of  forbearance. 

"It  would  be  the  same,"  I  re- 
plied politely,  "  if  you  asked  me 
for  a  thousand  ; "  with  which  I 
handed  her  half-a-crown.  She  held  it  in  her  open 
hand,  regarding  it  scornfully. 

"  Yes,"  I  continued,  taking  a  seat,  "  I  feel  that 
pecuniary  gifts  —  " 
"  Half-a-crown  ! " 

"Are   a   poor   substitute   for  personal  service. 
May  not  I  accompany  you  to  the  ceremony  ? " 
"  I  dare  say  you  spent  as  much  as  this  on  wine 
with  your  lunch  !  " 

"  I  was  in  a  mad  mood  to-day,"  I  answered 
apologetically.  "  What  are  they  taught  at  the 
school  ?  " 

"  Above  all,  to  be  good  girls,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
earnestly.  "  What  are  you  sneering  at,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

lo  145 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Nothing,"  said  I,  hastily,  and  I  added  with  a 
sigh,  "  I  suppose  it 's  all  right." 

"  I  should  like,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  meditatively, 
"  if  I  had  not  other  duties,  to  dedicate  my  life  to 
the  service  of  girls." 

"  I  should  think  twice  about  that,  if  I  were  you," 
said  I,  shaking  my  head. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Carter,  I  don't  know  if  I  Ve 
ever  spoken  unkindly  of  Lady  Mickleham.  I 
hope  not." 

"  Hope,"  said  I,  "is  not  yet  taxed." 

"  If  I  have,  I  'm  very  sorry.  She 's  been  most 
kind  in  undertaking  to  give  away  the  prizes  to-day. 
There  must  be  some  good  in  her." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  hasty  !  "   I  implored. 

"  I  always  wanted  to  think  well  of  her." 

"  Ah  !     Now  I  never  did." 

"  And  Lord  Mickleham  is  coming,  too.  He  '11 
be  most  useful." 

"  That  settles  it,"  I  exclaimed.  "  I  may  not  be 
an  earl,  but  I  have  a  perfect  right  to  be  useful. 
I  '11  go  too." 

"  I  wonder  if  you  '11  behave  properly,"  said 
Mrs.  Hilary,  doubtfully. 

I  held  out  a  half-sovereign,  three  half-crowns, 
and  a  shilling. 

"  Oh,  well,  you  may  come,  since  Hilary  can't," 
said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

146 


A   SLIGHT    MISTAKE 

"You  mean  he  won't,"  I  observed. 

"  He  has  always  been  prevented  hitherto,"  said 
she,  with  dignity. 

So  I  went,  and  it  proved  a  most  agreeable  expe- 
dition. There  were  two  hundred  girls  in  blue 
frocks  and  white  aprons  (the  girl  three  from  the 
end  of  the  fifth  row  was  decidedly  pretty)  —  a  nice 
lot  of  prize  books  —  the  Micklehams  (Dolly  in  de- 
mure black),  ourselves,  and  the  matron.  All  went 
well.  Dolly  gave  away  the  prizes  ;  Mrs.  Hilary 
and  Archie  made  little  speeches.  Then  the  matron 
came  to  me.  I  was  sitting  modestly  at  the  back 
of  the  platform,  a  little  distance  behind  the  others. 

"  Mr.  Musgrave,"  said  the  matron  to  me, 
"  we  're  so  glad  to  see  you  here  at  last.  Won't 
you  say  a  few  words  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  a  privilege,"  I  responded  cordially, 
"but  unhappily  I  have  a  sore  throat." 

The  matron  (who  was  a  most  respectable 
woman)  said,  "  Dear,  dear  ! "  but  did  not  press  the 
point.  Evidently,  however,  she  liked  me,  for 
when  we  went  to  have  a  cup  of  tea,  she  got  me  in 
a  corner  and  began  to  tell  me  all  about  the  work. 
It  was  extremely  interesting.  Then  the  matron 
observed,  — 

"  And  what  an  angel  Mrs.  Musgrave  is  !  " 

"  Well,  I  should  hardly  call  her  that,"  said  I? 
with  a  smile. 

147 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,  you  must  n't  depreciate  her,  —  you,  of  all 
men  !  "  cried  the  matron,  with  a  somewhat  pon- 
derous archness.  "  Really  I  envy  you  her  constant 
society." 

"  I  assure  you,"  said  I,  "  I  see  very  little  of 
her," 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

"  I  only  go  to  the  house  about  once  a  fortnight 
—  Oh,  it's  not  my  fault.  She  won't  have  me 
there  oftener." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  beg  your  pardon. 
Perhaps  I've  touched  on  a  painful  —  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all,"  said  I,  suavely.  "  It  is 
very  natural.  I  am  neither  young  nor  handsome, 
Mrs.  Wiggins.     I  am  not  complaining." 

The  matron  gazed  at  me. 

"  Only  seeing  her  here,"  I  pursued,  "  you  have 
no  idea  of  what  she  is  at  home.  She  has  chosen 
to  forbid  me  to  come  to  her  house  —  " 

"  Her  house  ?  " 

"  It  happens  to  be  more  hers  than  mine,"  I 
explained.  "  To  forbid  me,  I  say,  more  than  once 
to  come  to  her  house.  No  doubt  she  had  her 
reasons." 

"  Nothing  could  justify  it,"  said  the  matron, 
directing  a  wondering  glance  at  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  Do  not  let  us  blame  her,"  said  I.  "  It  is  just 
an  unfortunate  accident.     She  is  not  as  fond  of  me 

148 


A    SLIGHT    MISTAKE 

as  I  could  wish,  Mrs.  Wiggins ;  and  she  is  a  great 
deal  fonder  than  I  could  wish  of —  " 

I  broke  off.  Mrs.  Hilary  was  walking  towards 
us.  I  think  she  was  pleased  to  see  me  getting  on 
so  well  with  the  matron,  for  she  was  smiling  pleas- 
antly.    The  matron  wore  a  bewildered  expression. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  "  that  you  '11 
drive  back  with  the  Micklehams  ?  " 

"  Unless  you  want  me,"  said  I,  keeping  a  watch- 
ful eye  on  the  matron. 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  you,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary, 
lightly. 

"  You  won't  be  alone  this  evening  ?  "  I  asked 
anxiously. 

Mrs.  Hilary  stared  a  little. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  she  said.  "  We  shall  have  our 
usual  party." 

"  May  I  come  one  day  next  week  ? "  I  asked 
humbly. 

Mrs.  Hilary  thought  for  a  moment. 

"  I  'm  so  busy  next  week ;  come  the  week 
after,"  said  she,  giving  me  her  hand. 

"That's  very  unkind,"  said  I. 

"  Nonsense ! "  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  and  she 
added,  "  Mind  you  let  me  know  when  you  *re 
coming." 

"  I  won't  surprise  you,"  I  assured  her,  with  a 
covert  glance  at  the  matron. 

149 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

The  excellent  woman  was  quite  red  in  the  face, 
and  could  gasp  out  nothing  but  "  Good-by,"  as 
Mrs.  Hilary  affectionately  pressed  her  hand. 

At  this  moment  Dolly  came  up.     She  was  alone. 

"  Where  's  Archie  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  He 's  run  away  ;  he  's  got  to  meet  somebody. 
I  knew  you  'd  see  me  home.  Mrs.  Hilary  didn't 
want  you,  of  course?" 

"Of  course  not,"  said  I,  plaintively. 

"  Besides,  you  'd  rather  come  with  me,  would  n't 
you  ?  "  pursued  Dolly,  and  she  added  pleasantly 
to  the  matron,  "  Mrs.  Hilary  's  so  down  on  him, 
you  know." 

"  I  'd  much  rather  come  with  you,"  said  L 

"  We  '11  have  a  cosy  drive  all  to  ourselves,"  said 
Dolly,  "  without  husbands  or  wives  or  anything 
horrid.  Is  n't  it  nice  to  get  rid  of  one's  husband 
sometimes,  Mrs.  Wiggins  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  misfortune  to  be  a  widow.  Lady 
Mickleham,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggins. 

Dolly's  eye  rested  upon  her  with  an  interested 
expression.  I  knew  that  she  was  about  to  ask 
Mrs.  Wiggins  whether  she  liked  the  condition  of 
life,  and  I  interposed  hastily,  with  a  sigh,  — 

"  But  you  can  look  back  on  a  happy  marriage, 
Mrs.  Wiggins?" 

"  I  did  my  best  to  make  it  so,"  said  she, 
stiffly. 

150 


A   SLIGHT    MISTAKE 

"You're  right,"  said  I.     "Even  in  the  face  of 
unkindness  we  should  strive  —  " 

"  My  husband  's  not  unkind,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  your  husband,"  said  I. 

"  What  your  poor  wife  would  do  if  she  cared  a 
button  for  you,  I  don't  know,"  observed  Dolly. 

"  If  I  had  a  wife  who  cared  for  me,  I  should  be 
a  better  man,"  said  I,  solemnly. 

"  But  you  'd  probably  be  very  dull,"  said  Dolly. 
"  And  you  would  n't  be  allowed  to  drive  with  me." 

"Perhaps  it's  all  for  the  best,"  said  I,  brighten- 
ing up.     "  Good-hy-,  Mrs.  Wiggins." 

Dolly  walked  on.  Mrs.  Wiggins  held  my  hand 
for  a  moment. 

"  Young  man,"  said  she,  sternly,  "  are  you  sure 
it 's  not  your  own  fault  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  at  all  sure,  Mrs.  Wiggins,"  said  I 
"  But  don't  be  distressed  about  it.  It 's  of  no 
consequence.  I  don't  let  it  make  me  unhappy. 
Good-by  ;  so  many  thanks.  Charming  girls  you 
have  here  —  especially  that  one  in  the  fifth  —  I 
mean,  charming,  all  of  them.      Good-by." 

I  hastened  to  the  carriage.  Mrs.Wiggins  stood 
and  watched.     I  got  in  and  sat  down  by  Dolly. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Wiggins,"  said  Dolly,  dimpling, 
"don't  tell  Mrs.  Hilary  that  Archie  wasn't  with 
us,  or  we  shall  get  into  trouble."  And  she  added 
to  me,  "  Are  you  all  right  ?  " 

151 


THE    DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Rather !  "  said  I,  appreciatively  ;  and  we  drove 
off,  leaving  Mrs.  Wiggins  on  the  door-step. 

A  fortnight  later  I  went  to  call  on  Mrs.  Hilary. 
After  some  conversation  she  remarked, — 

"  I  'm  going  to  the  school  again  to-morrow." 

"Really!"  said  L 

"And  I  'm  so  delighted  —  I  've  persuaded 
Hilary  to  come." 

She  paused,  and  then  added,  — 

"  You  really  seemed  interested  last  time." 

"  Oh,  I  was." 

"  Would  you  like  to  come  again  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not,  thanks,"  said  I,  carelessly. 

"  That 's  just  like  you  !  "  she  said  severely. 
"  You  never  do  any  real  good,  because  you 
never  stick  to  anything." 

"  There  are  some  things  one  can't  stick  to," 
said  L 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

But  there  are  —  and  I  did  n't  go. 


152 


XIX 

THE   OTHER    LADY 

|Y  the  merest  chance,"  I  observed 
meditatively",  "I  attended  a  recep- 
tion last  night." 

"  I    went    to    three,"    said    Lady 
Mickleham,   selecting    a    sardine- 
sandwich  with  care. 
"I  might  not  have  gone,"  I  mused.      "  I  might 
easily  not  have  gone." 

"  I  can't  see  what  difference  it  would  make  if 
you  had  n't,"  said  she. 

"  I   thought  three  times  about  going.       It 's  a 
curious  world." 

"  What    happened  ?      You    may    smoke,    you 
know." 

"  I  fell  in  love,"  said  I,  lighting  a  cigarette. 
Lady  Mickleham  placed  her  feet  on  the  fender 
—  it  was  a  chilly  afternoon  —  and  turned  her  face 
to  me,  shielding  it  from  the  fire  with   her  hand- 
kerchief 

"  Men  of  your  age,"  she  remarked,  "  have  no 
business  to  be  thinking  of  such  things." 

153 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  it,"  said  1.  "  I  was 
thinking  of  going  home.  Then  I  was  introduced 
to  her." 

"  And  you  stayed  a  little,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  stayed  two  hours  —  or  two  minutes  ;  I  for- 
get which  ;  "  and  I  added,  nodding  my  head  at 
Lady  Mickleham,  "  There  was  something  irresisti- 
ble about  me  last  night." 

Lady  Mickleham  laughed. 

"  You  seem  very  pleased  with  yourself,"  she 
said,  reaching  for  a  fan  to  replace  the  handker- 
chief 

"  Yes,  take  care  of  your  complexion,"  said  I, 
approvingly.    "  She  has  a  lovely  complexion." 

Lady  Mickleham  laid  down  the  fan. 

"  I  am  very  pleased  with  myself,"  I  continued. 
"  She  was  delighted  with  me." 

"  I  suppose  you  talked  nonsense  to  her." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea  what  I  talked  to  her. 
It  was  quite  immaterial.  The  language  of  the 
eyes  — 

"  Oh,  you  might  be  a  boy  ! " 

"  I  was,"  said  I,  nodding  again. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Dolly  looked  at  me  ; 
I  looked  at  the  fire.  I  did  not,  however,  see  the 
fire.     I  saw  something  quite  different. 

"  She  liked  me  very  much,"  I  observed,  stretch- 
ing my  hands  out  towards  the  blaze. 

154 


*-vn-n.^iCL^jit  C<ur 


"  You  seem  very  pleased  zvitb  yourself;'  said  Dolly 


THE    OTHER    LADY 

"  You  absurd  old  man  !  "  said  Dolly.  "  Was 
she  very  charming  ?  " 

"She  was  perfect." 

«  How  ?     Clever  ?  " 

I  waved  my  hand  impatiently. 

"  Pretty,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  ;  the  prettiest  creature  I  ever 
—  But  that  goes  without  saying." 

"  It  would  have  gone  better  without  saying," 
remarked  Dolly.     "  Considering  —  " 

To  have  asked  "  Considering  what  ?  "  would 
have  been  the  acme  of  bad  taste.  I  merely  smiled, 
and  waved  my  hand  again. 

"  You  're  quite  serious  about  it,  are  n't  you  ?  " 
said  Dolly. 

"  I  should  think  I  was,"  said  I,  indignantly. 
"  Not  to  be  serious  in  such  a  matter  is  to  waste 
it  utterly." 

"I  '11  come  to  the  wedding,"  said  Dolly. 

"  There  won't  be  a  wedding,"  said  I.  "  There 
are  Reasons." 

"  Oh  !     You  're  very  unlucky,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  That,"  I  observed,  "  is  as  it  may  be,  Lady 
Mickleham." 

"  Were  the  Reasons  at  the  reception  ? " 

"  They  were.     It  made  no  difference." 

"  It 's  very  curious,"  remarked  Dolly,  with 
a    compassionate    air,  "  that   you    always    manage 

155 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

to  admire  people  whom  somebody  else  has 
married." 

"  It  would  be  very  curious,"  I  rejoined,  "  if 
somebody  had  not  married  the  people  whom  I 
admire.  Last  night,  though,  I  made  nothing  of 
his  sudden  removal :  my  fancy  rioted  in  accidental 
deaths  for  him." 

"  He  won't  die,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  hate  that  sort  of  superstition,"  said  I,  irritably. 
"  He 's  just  as  likely  to  die  as  any  other  man  is." 

"  He  certainly  won't  die,"  said  Dolly. 

"  Well,  I  know  he  won't.  Do  let  it  alone," 
said  I,  much  exasperated.  It  was  probably  only 
kindness,  but  Dolly  suddenly  turned  her  eyes 
away  from  me  and  fixed  them  on  the  fire ;  she  took 
the  fan  up  again  and  twirled  it  in  her  hand ;  a 
queer  little  smile  bent  her  lips. 

"  I  hope  the  poor  man  won't  die,"  said  Dolly, 
in  a  low  voice. 

"If  he  had  died  last  night!"  I  cried  longingly. 
Then,  with  a  regretful  shrug  of  my  shoulders,  I 
added,  "  Let  him  live  now  to  the  crack  of  doom  ! " 

Somehow  this  restored  my  good  humour.  I  rose 
and  stood  with  my  back  to  the  fire,  stretching  my- 
self and  sighing  luxuriously.  Dolly  leant  back  in 
her  chair  and  laughed  at  me. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  be  forgiven  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  no,"  said  I ;  "  I  had  too  good  an  excuse." 
156 


THE    OTHER    LADY 

"  I  wish  I  'd  been  there  —  at  the  reception,  I 
mean." 

"  I  'm  extremely  glad  you  were  n't.  Lady 
Mickleham.     As  it  was,  I  forgot  all  my  troubles." 

Dolly  is  not  resentful ;  she  did  not  mind  the 
implied  description.  She  leant  back,  smiling  still. 
I  sighed  again,  smiled  at  Dolly,  and  took  my  hat. 
Then  I  turned  to  the  mirror  over  the  mantelpiece, 
arranged  my  necktie,  and  gave  my  hair  a  touch. 

"  No  one,"  1  observed,  "  can  afford  to  neglect 
the  niceties  of  the  toilet.  Those  dainty  little  curls 
on  the  forehead  —  " 

"  You  've  had  none  there  for  ten  years,"  cried 
Lady   Mickleham. 

"  I  did  not  mean  my  forehead,"  said  L 

Sighing  once  again,  I  held  out  my  hand  to 
Dolly. 

"  Are  you  doing  anything  this  evening  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  That  depends  on  what  I  'm  asked  to  do,"  said 
I,  cautiously. 

"Well,  Archie's  going  to  be  at  the  House,  and 
I  thought  you  might  take  me  to  the  Phaetons' 
party.  It's  quite  a  long  drive  —  a  horribly  long 
drive,  Mr.   Carter." 

I  stood  for  a  moment  considering  this  proposal. 

"I  dont  think,"  said  I,  "that  it  would  be 
proper." 

157 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  Why,  Archie  suggested  it !  You  're  making 
an  excuse.  You  know  you  are ! "  and  Lady 
Mickleham  looked  very  indignant.  "  As  if,"  she 
added  scornfully,  "  you  cared  about  what  was 
proper !  " 

I  dropped  into  a  chair,  and  said  in  a  confidential 
tone,  "  I  don't  care  a  pin.  It  was  a  mere  excuse. 
I  don't  want  to  come." 

"  You  're  very  rude,  indeed.  Many  women 
would  never  speak  to  you  again." 

"They  would,"  said  I,  "all  do  just  as  you 
will." 

"  And  what 's  that,  Mr.  Carter?  " 

"  Ask  me  again  on  the  first  opportunity." 

"  Why  won't  you  come  ?  "  said  Dolly,  waiving 
this  question. 

I  bent  forward,  holding  my  hat  in  my  left  hand, 
and  sawing  the  air  with  my  right  forefinger. 

"You  fail  to  allow,"  said  I,  impressively,  "for 
the  rejuvenescence  which  recent  events  have  pro- 
duced in  me.  If  I  came  with  you  this  evening  I 
should  be  quite  capable  —  "     I  paused. 

"  Of  anything  dreadful  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 

"  Of  paying  you  pronounced  attentions,"  said  I, 
gravely. 

"That,"  said  Dolly,  with  equal  gravity,  "would 
be  very  regrettable.  It  would  be  unjust  to  me  — 
and  very  insulting  to  her,  Mr.  Carter." 

158 


THE    OTHER    LADY 

"It  would  be  the  finest  testimonial  to  her,"  I 
cried. 

"And  you'll  spend  the  evening  thinking  of 
her?"  asked  Dolly. 

"  I  shall  get  through  the  evening,"  said  I,  "  in 
the  best  way  I  can."     And  I  smiled  contentedly. 

"  What 's  her  husband?  "  asked  Dolly,  suddenly. 

"  Her  husband,"  I  rejoined,  "  is  nothing  at  all." 

Dolly,  receiving  this  answer,  looked  at  me  with 
a  pathetic  air. 

"  It 's  not  quite  fair,"  she  observed.  "  Do  you 
know  what  I  'm  thinking  about,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do.  Lady  Mickleham.  You  are 
thinking  that  you  would  like  to  meet  me  for  the 
first  time." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  was  thinking  that  it  would  be 
amusing  if  you  met  me  for  the  first  time." 

1  said  nothing.  Dolly  rose  and  walked  to  the 
window.  She  swung  the  tassel  of  the  blind  and  it 
bumped  against  the  window.  The  failing  sun 
caught  her  ruddy  brown  hair.  There  were  curls 
on   her  forehead,  too. 

"  It's  a  grand  world,"  said  I.  "  And,  after  all, 
one  can  grow  old  very  gradually." 

"  You  're  not  really  old,"  said  Dolly,  with  the 
fleetest  glance  at  me.  A  glance  should  not  be 
over-long. 

"  Gradually  and  disgracefully,"  I  murmured. 
159 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  If  you  met  me  for  the  first  time  — "  said 
Dolly,  swinging  the  tassel. 

"  By  Heaven,  it  should  be  the  last !  "  I  cried, 
and  I  rose  to  my  feet. 

Dolly  let  the  tassel  go,  and  made  me  a  very 
pretty  curtsey. 

"  I  am  going  to  another  party  to-night,"  said  I, 
nodding  my  head  significantly. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Dolly. 

"  And  I  shall  again,"  I  pursued,  "  spend  my 
time  with  the  prettiest  woman  in  the  room." 

"  Shall  you  ?  "  asked  Dolly,  smiling. 

"I  am  a  very  fortunate  fellow,"  I  observed. 
"And  as  for  Mrs.  Hilary,  she  may  say  what  she 
likes." 

"Oh,  does  Mrs.  Hilary  know  the  —  Other 
Lady  ? " 

I  walked  towards  the  door. 

"  There  is,"  said  I,  laying  my  hand  on  the  door, 
"  no  Other  Lady." 

"  I  shall  get  there  about  eleven,"  said  Dolly. 


1 60 


XX 

A   LIFE    SUBSCRIPTION 

NEVER  quite  know,"  said  Mrs. 
Hilary,  taking  up  her  embroidery, 
"  what  you  mean  when  you  talk 
about  love." 

"No  more  do  I,"  I  admitted, 
stroking  the  cat. 
"  If  you  mean  that  you  dedicate  to    a  woman 
your  whole  life  —  " 

"And  more  than  half  your  income." 
Mrs.   Hilary  laid    down   the   embroidery,  and 
observed,    as    though    she    were    concluding    the 
discussion,  — 

"  The  fact  is,  you  don't  know  what  real  love  is." 
"  I  never  met  anyone  who  did,"  said  I. 
Mrs.  Hilary  opened  her  mouth. 
"  At  least  they  could  never  tell  me  what  it  was," 
I  added  hastily. 

Mrs.  Hilary  resumed  the  embroidery. 
"  Now  the  other  day,"  I  continued,  "  my  friend 
Major  Camperton  married  his  cook." 
"What  for?"   cried  Mrs.  Hilary. 
"  Because  his  wife  was  dead,"  said  I. 
II  i6i 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  That 's  not  a  reason." 

"  You  must  admit  that  it 's  an  excuse,"  I 
pleaded. 

Mrs.  Hilary,  taking  no  notice  of  my  apology, 
made  a  thoughtful  stitch  or  two.  Then  she 
observed, — 

"  I  was  never  in  love  with  any  man  except 
Hilary." 

"  You  're  always  boasting  of  that :  I  suppose  it 
was  difficult  ?  " 

"But  once  I  was  awfully  —  but  if  I  tell  you, 
you  '11  talk  about  it." 

"  Upon  my  honour  I  won't." 

"You  will  —  to  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Lady  Mickleham  takes  no  interest  in  you," 
said  L 

"Well,  once  T  was  awfully  tempted.  It  was 
before  I  knew  Hilary." 

"  But  after  you  knew  me  ?  "     I  suggested. 

"  Don't  be  absurd,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  He 
was  very  rich  —  rather  handsome  too." 

"  I  have  always  persisted  in  maintaining  that 
you  were  human,"  I  observed  complacently. 

"  I  think,"  said  she,  gazing  at  me,  "  that  you 
are  the  most  earthly  man  I  ever  knew." 

"Go  on  with  the  story,"  said  I,  taking  the  cat 
on  my  knee. 

"  And  he  was  really  very  fond  of  me." 
162 


'*  Are  Ti"  t  you  ever  going  to  marry  ?  " 


A    LIFE    SUBSCRIPTION 

**  Oh,  so  he  said." 

"  But  —  well,  I  might  have,  if  he  had  n't." 

"  Oh,  I  understand  ;  at  least  I  hope  so." 

''  I  mean  he  would  n't  talk  about  anything  else." 

"  I  suppose  he  saw  nothing  else  in  you." 

"  That  was  what  I    felt.     Good    looks    are  n't 

everything." 

"Were  you  good-looking?"     I  inquired. 

Mrs.   Hilary  showed   signs  of  being   about   to 

take    up    her    embroidery. 

"  All    right :     Hilary    is  n't    here,"    said    I,    in 

excuse. 

"  I  hated  it.     I  wanted  to  be  —  "     She  paused. 

"  What 's  in  a  word?   Say  '  esteemed.'  " 

"Yes  —  for  something  more  than  that." 

"  So  you  would  n't  have  anything  to  say  to  him  ? " 

"  No.     I  was  so  glad  —  afterwards." 

"  And  what 's  become  of  him  ? " 

"  Oh,  he's  married." 

"  It 's  a  just  world.     Now  lots  of  those  Immoral 

writers  would  have  rewarded  him  with  perpetual 

bachelorhood." 

Mrs.   Hilary  pushed  her  embroidery  quite  far 

off,  and  leant  forward  towards  me. 

"  Are  n't  you  ever  going  to  marry  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Marriages  are  made  in  heaven,"  said  I.      Mrs. 

Hilary  nodded  approvingly.     "  I  thought  of  wait- 
ing till  I  got  there,"  I  added. 

163 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  And  she  added,  "  I 
know  a  really  charming  girl." 

"  You  cruel  woman  !  Would  you  doom  her  to 
me  : 

"  You  'd  be  all  right,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  "if  you 
could  be  removed  from  —  " 

"  Certain  influences,"  I  suggested  hastily.  "  But 
for  Hilary  you  also  would  be  a  pleasant  woman." 

"  There  's  not  the  least  comparison,"  said  she, 
with  a  flush. 

"  There 's  always  a  comparison,"  I  observed. 
"  What  are  we  talking  about  ?  " 

Now  Mrs.  Hilary  could  not,  as  I  well  knew, 
answer  this  question. 

"  Well,  I  'm  very  sorry  about  it,"  she  said. 

"A  romance,"  said  I,  "  is  a  thing  to  be  cherished." 

"  I  can  't  think  it 's  right,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  To  remember  —  to  be  proud  of." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  about  it,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  To  be  taken  —  " 

"Seriously?  Yes,  of  course,  or  it's  worse 
than  —  " 

"To  be  taken,"  said  I,  "between  meals." 

Mrs.  Hilary  leapt  to  her  feet. 

"  Or  else  you  know,"  I  added,  "  it  would  spoil 
dinner." 

Mrs.  Hilary  was  very  angry ;  but  she  was  also 
164 


A    LIFE    SUBSCRIPTION 

a   little  curious.     The  latter    emotion   was    more 
powerful. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  she,  "  what  you  do  really  feel 
about  —  " 

"What?" 

"  It,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"Am  I  in  the  confessional  ?  " 

To  my  delight  a  smile  lurked  round  Mrs. 
Hilary's  lips. 

"  You  think,"  she  said,  "  that  I  don't  under- 
stand it.     Well,  I  do  a  little.     She  's  been  here." 

"  Has  she,  though  ?  What  was  she  doing 
here?" 

"  Oh,  coaxing,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  She  wanted 
a  subscription  from  Hilary." 

I  was  much  interested. 

"Were  you  present  at  the  interview?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary.  "  She  got  the  sub- 
scription, Mr.  Carter,  —  a  larger  one  than  Hilary 
could  afford." 

"  I  have  given  her  a  larger  one  than  I  could 
afford." 

The  rare  smile  still  twitched  round  Mrs. 
Hilary's    mouth. 

"What  do  you  think  Hilary  did  when  she'd 
gone  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  should  think  he  felt  a  fool,"  said  I. 

*'  He  apologised,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary. 
165 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

I  laughed.     Mrs.  Hilary  laughed  reluctantly. 

"  Guileless  creature  !  "  I  observed. 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  do  that ! "  she  said,  with  k 
slight  flush.  "  Shall  I  tell  you  what  he  did  after- 
wards ?  " 

"  Lord,  I  know  that  well  enough  !  " 

"  I  'm  sure  you  don't." 

"  Gave  you  a  new  bonnet,  of  course." 

I  believe  that  Mrs.  Hilary  was  annoyed  ;  for 
she  said  quite  sulkily,  — 

"  It  was  a  bracelet." 

"  I  told  you  so,"  I  observed. 

"  He'd  have  given  it  me  anyhow,"  she  cried. 

"  Not  he  !  "  said  I. 

"  He  'd  meant  to,  before,"  said  she.  "  He  said 
so. 

I  smiled ;  but  I  did  not  wish  to  make  mischief, 
so  I  added,  "  The  subscription  was,  of  course, 
civility." 

"  That  's  all,  of  course.  Still  it  is  funny,  is  n't 
it .?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  rather." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  Do  you  care  to  meet  that  girl  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Hilary. 

"N-no,"  said  I. 

"  I  would  give  you  one  more  chance,"  she  said 
generously. 

i66 


RSsrr-'^^ 


I  ruJlsJ^tijMn+v   i^j 


"  Oh,  mine  's  a  life  subscription  " 


A    LIFE    SUBSCRIPTION 

"  Thank    you.     I  'm    still    subscribing,"  I    an- 
swered.    "  No  bracelets  for  me." 

"We   laughed    about   it    when    she   was    gone. 
Hilary  was  amused  at  himself." 

"  I  have  experienced  the  feeling,"  I  observed. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  tell  you  what  he  called 
her?" 

"  Probably  not.     Go  on." 

"  He  said  she  was  an  insinuating  little  —  " 

"Why  do  you  hesitate,  Mrs.  Hilary?  " 

"  Devily^  said    Mrs.   Hilary,  almost  under   her 
breath. 

"  Ah  ! "  said  I,  setting  the  cat  down,  and  reach- 
ing for  my  hat. 

"  Yes,    devil,"  said    Mrs.  Hilary,  more    coura- 
geously. 

"And  what  did  he  say  you  were  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  blushing, 

"Then  you  and  Hilary  are  friends  again  ?" 

"  I   did  n't  mind    in  the  least,"  declared    Mrs. 
Hilary.      "  Only  it 's  curious  —  " 

I  began  to  laugh.     I  enjoy  a  chance  of  laughing 
at  Mrs.  Hilary. 

"  We  are    all    much  indebted    to   her,"  said  I ; 
"  some  for  a  bracelet  —  " 

"  Nonsense  !" 

"  Some  for  a  momentary  emotion  —  " 

"  He  did  n't  feel  even  that." 
167 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Some  for  a  life-long  —  Dear  me,  how  late  It 
grows  !  I  must  be  off."  And  I  held  out  my 
hand.     As  I  did  so,  Hilary  entered. 

"  By  the  way.  Carter,"  said  he,  when  he  saw  me, 
"  what 's  that  society  Lady  Mickleham collects  for? 
She  got  something  out  of  me.  I  hope  it's  not  a 
fraud." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  L 

"  Because  I  've  given  her  a  trifle." 

"  So  have  I,"  I  remarked. 

"  A  donation,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  mine  's  a  life  subscription,"  said  L 

"  Oh,  go  away,"  said  Mrs.  Hilary,  impatiently. 

"  Well,  you  've  got  nothing  else  to  do  with  your 
money,"  said  Hilary.  "  You  Ve  not  got  a  wife 
and  family." 

"That  is,  of  course,"  said  I,  "  the  explanation." 

Then  Mrs.  Hilary  drove  me  out.  She  'd  have 
done  it  sooner  only  that  in  her  heart  she  credits 
me  with  a  tragedy. 


i68 


XXI 

WHAT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN 

INFORTUNATELY  it  was 
Sunday  ;  therefore  the  gardeners 
could  not  be  ordered  to  shift  the 
long  row  of  flower-pots  from  the 
side  of  the  terrace  next  the  house, 
where  Dolly  had  ordered  them 
to  be  put,  to  the  side  remote  from  the  house, 
where  Dolly  now  wished  them  to  stand.  Yet  Dolly 
could  not  think  of  living  with  the  pots  where  they 
were  till  Monday.  It  would  kill  her,  she  said. 
So  Archie  left  the  cool  shade  of  the  great  trees, 
where  Dolly  sat  doing  nothing,  and  Nellie  Phaeton 
sat  splicing  the  gig  whip,  and  I  lay  in  a  deck-chair, 
with  something  iced  beside  me.  Outside,  the  sun 
was  broiling  hot,  and  poor  Archie  mopped  his 
brow  at  every  weary  journey  across  the  broad 
terrace. 

"  It 's    a    burnin'    shame,    Dolly,"    said     Miss 
Phaeton.     "  I  would  n't  do  it  if  I  were  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would,  dear,"  said  Dolly.     "  The 
pots  looked  atrocious  on  that  side." 

169 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

I  took  a  long  sip  from  my  glass,  and  observed 
In  a  meditative  tone,  — 

"  There,  but  for  the  grace  of  woman,  goes 
Samuel  Travers   Carter." 

Dolly's  lazy  lids  half  lifted.  Miss  Phaeton 
mumbled  (her  mouth  was  full  of  twine),  — 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

*^  Nemo  omnibus  Jioris  sapit"  said  I,  apologetically. 

"  I  don't  know  what  that  means  either." 

"  Nemo  —  everybody,"  I  translated,  "  sapit  — 
has  been  In  love  —  omnibus  —  once  —  horis  —  at 
least." 

"  Oh,  and  you  mean  she  would  n't  have  you  ? '' 
asked  Nellie,  with  blunt  directness. 

"  Not  quite  that,"  said  L     "  They  —  " 

"  They  ?  "  murmured  Dolly,  with  half-lifted  lids. 

"  Theyy*  I  pursued,  "  regretfully  recognised  my 
impossibility.  Hence  I  am  not  carrying  pots 
across  a  broad  terrace  under  a  hot  sun." 

"  Why  did  they  think  you  impossible  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Phaeton,  who  takes  much  interest  In  this 
sort  of  question. 

"  A  variety  of  reasons :  for  one  I  was  too  clever, 
for  another  too  stupid  ;  for  others  too  good  —  or 
too  bad  ;  too  serious  —  or  too  frivolous  ;  too  poor 
or  —  " 

"  Well,  no  one  objected  to  your  money,  I  sup- 
pose ?  "  interrupted  Nellie. 

170 


WHAT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN 

"  Pardon  me.      I  was  about  to  say  '  or  not  rich 

"  But  that 's  the  same  thing." 

"  The  antithesis  is  certainly  imperfect,"  I 
admitted. 

"  Mr.  Gay,"  said  NeUie,  introducing  the  name 
with  some  timidity,  "you  know  who  I  mean  ?  — 
the  poet —  once  said  to  me  that  man  was  essentially 
imperfect  until  he  was  married," 

"  It  is  true,"  I  agreed.  "  And  woman  until  she 
is  dead." 

"  I  don't  think  he  meant  it  quite  in  that  sense," 
said  Nellie,  rather  puzzled. 

"  I  don't  think  he  meant  it  in  any  sense,"  mur- 
mured Dolly,  a  little  unkindly. 

We  might  have  gone  on  talking  in  this  idle 
way  for  ever  so  long  had  not  i^rchie  at  this  point 
dropped  a  large  flower-pot  and  smashed  it  to  bits. 
He  stood  looking  at  the  bits  for  a  moment,  and 
then  came  towards  us  and  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  I  'm  off!  "  he  announced. 

"  And  half  are  on  one  side,  and  half  on  the 
other,"  said  Dolly,  regretfully. 

A  sudden  impulse  seized  me.  I  got  up,  put  on 
my  straw  hat,  took  off  my  coat,  walked  out  into 
the  sun,  and  began  to  move  flower-pots  across  the 
broad  terrace.  I  heard  a  laugh  from  Archie,  a 
little  cry  from  Dolly,  and  from  Nellie  Phaeton, 

171 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Goodness !  what 's  he  doin'  that  for  ?  "  I  was 
not  turned  from  my  purpose.  The  luncheon  bell 
rang.  Miss  Phaeton,  whip  and  twine  in  hand, 
walked  into  the  house.  Archie  followed  her, 
saying  as  he  passed  that  he  hoped  I  should  n't  find 
it  warm.  I  went  on  shifting  the  flower-pots. 
They  were  very  heavy.  I  broke  two,  but  I  went 
on.  Presently  Dolly  put  up  her  parasol  and  came 
out  from  the  shade  to  watch  me.  She  stood  there 
for  a  moment  or  two.     Then  she  said,  — 

"  Well,  do  you  think  you  'd  like  it,  Mr. 
Carter?  " 

"  Wait  till  I  Ve  finished,"  said  I,  waving  my 
hand. 

Another  ten  minutes  saw  the  end  of  my  task. 
Panting  and  hot,  I  sought  the  shade,  and  flung 
myself  on  to  my  deck-chair  again.  I  also  lit  a 
cigarette. 

"I  think  they  looked  better  on  the  other  side, 
after  all,"  said  Dolly,  meditatively. 

"  Of  course  you  do,"  said  I,  urbanely.  "  You 
needn't  tell  me  that." 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  like  to  move  them  back,"  she 
suggested. 

"No,"  said  L  "I've  done  enough  to  create 
the  impression." 

"  And  how  did  you  like  it?  " 

"  It  was,"  said  I,  "  in  its  way  a  pleasant  enough 
172 


WHAT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN 

illusion."      And    I    shrugged    my  shoulders,  and 
blew  a  ring  of  smoke. 

To  my  very  considerable  gratification,  Dolly's 
tone  manifested  some  annoyance  as  she  asked, — 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  in  its  way  '  ?  " 

"  Because,  in  spite  of  the  momentary  pleasure  I 
gained  from  feeling  myself  a  married  man,  I  could 
not  banish  the  idea  that  we  should  not  permanently 
suit  one  another." 

"Oh,  you  thought  that?"  said  Dolly,  smiling 
again. 

"  I  must  confess  it,"  said  I.  "The  fault,  I 
know,  would  be  mine." 

"I  'm  sure  of  that,"  said  Dolly. 

"But  the  fact  is  that  I  can't  exist  in  too  high 
altitudes.  The  rarefaction  of  the  moral  atmos- 
phere—  " 

"  Please  don't  use  all  those  long  words." 

"Well,  then,  to  put  it  plainly,"  said  I,  with  a 
pleasant  smile,  "  I  felt  all  the  time  that  Mrs. 
Hilary  would  be  too  good  for  me." 

It  is  not  very  often  that  it  falls  to  my  humble 
lot  to  startle  Lady  Mickleham  out  of  her  com- 
posure. But  at  this  point  she  sat  up  quite  straight 
in  her  chair;  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  eyelids 
ceased  to  droop  in  indolent  insouciance. 

"  Mrs.  Hilary  !  "she  said.  "  What  has  Mrs. 
Hilary—?" 

173 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  really  thought  you  understood,"  said  I, 
"  the  object  of  my  experiment." 

Dolly  glanced  at  me.  I  believe  that  my  ex- 
pression was  absolutely  innocent  —  and  I  am,  of 
course,  sure  that  hers  expressed  mere  surprise. 

"  I  thought,"  she  said,  after  a  pause,  "  that  you 
were  thinking  of  NeUie  Phaeton." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  cried  I,  smiling.  "A  natural 
mistake,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"  She  thought  so  too,"  pursued  Dolly,  biting 
her  lip. 

"  Did  she,  though  ^  " 

"And  I'm  sure  she'd  be  quite  annoyed  if  she 
thought  you  were  thinking  of  Mrs.  Hilary." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  I  observed,  "  she  didn't 
understand  what  I  was  doing  at  all." 

Dolly  leant  back.  The  relics  of  a  frown  still 
dwelt  on  her  brow ;  presently,  however,  she  began 
to  swing  her  hat  on  her  forefinger,  and  she  threw 
a  look  at  me.  I  immediately  looked  up  towards 
the  branches  above  my  head. 

"  We  might  as  well  go  in  to  lunch,"  said 
Dolly. 

"  By  all  means,"  I  acquiesced,  with  alacrity. 

We  went  out  into  the  sunshine,  and  came  where 
the  pots  were.     Suddenly  Dolly  said, — 

"  Go  back  and  sit  down  again,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  I  want  my  lunch,"  I  ventured  to  observe. 
174 


WHAT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN 

"  Do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Dolly,  stamping  her 
foot ;  whereat,  much  intimidated,  I  went  back,  and 
stretched  myself  once  more  on  the  deck-chair. 

Dolly  approached  a  flower-pot.  She  stooped 
down,  exerted  her  strength,  lifted  it,  and  carried  it, 
not  without  effort,  across  the  terrace.  Again  she 
did  the  like.  I  sat  smoking  and  watching.  She 
lifted  a  third  pot,  but  dropped  it  halfway.  Then, 
dusting  her  hands  against  one  another,  she  came 
back  slowly  into  the  shade  and  sat  down.  I  made 
no  remark.     Dolly  glanced  at  me. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Woman  —  woman  —  woman  !  "  said  I,  sadly. 

"  Must  I  carry  some  more  ?  "  asked  Dolly,  in  a 
humble  yet  protesting  tone. 

"  Mrs.  Hilary,"  I  began,  "  is  an  exceedingly 
attractive  —  " 

Dolly  rose  with  a  sigh. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  More  pots,"  said  Dolly,  standing  opposite  me. 
"  I  must  go  on,  you  see." 

"  Till  when.  Lady  Mickleham  ?  " 

"  Till  you  tell  the  truth,"  said  Dolly,  and  she 
suddenly  burst  into  a  little  laugh. 

"Woman  —  woman  —  woman!"  said  I  again. 
"  Let 's  go  in  to  lunch." 

"  I  'm  going  to  carry  the  pots,"  said  Dolly. 
"It's  awfully  hot,  Mr.  Carter — and  look  at  my 
poor  hands  !  "  175 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

She  held  them  out  to  me. 

"  Lunch  !  "  said  L 

"  Pots  ! "  said  Dolly,  with  infinite  firmness. 

The  window  of  the  dining-room  opened  and 
Archie  put  his  head  out. 

"  Come  along,  you  two,"  he  called.  "  Every- 
thing 's  getting  cold." 

Dolly  turned  an  appealing  glance  on  me. 

"  How  obstinate  you  are  !  "  she  said.  "  You 
know  perfectly  well  —  " 

I  began  to  walk  towards  the  house. 

"  I  'm  going  in  to  lunch,"  said  L 

"  Ask  them  to  keep  some  for  me,"  said  Dolly, 
and  she  turned  up  the  sleeves  of  her  gown  till  her 
wrists  were  free. 

"  It's  most  unfair,"  said  I,  indignantly. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  is,"  said  Dolly,  stooping 
down  to  lift  a  pot. 

I  watched  her  strain  to  lift  it.  She  had  chosen 
the  largest  and  heaviest ;  she  sighed  delicately  and 
delicately  she  panted.  She  also  looked  at  her 
hands,  and  held  them  up  for  me  to  see  the  lines 
of  brown  on  the  pink.  I  put  my  hands  In  my 
pockets  and  said  most  sulkily,  as  I  turned  away 
towards  the  house, — 

"  All  right.     It  was  n't  Mrs.  Hilary,  then." 

Dolly  rose  up,  seized  me  by  the  arm,  and  made 
me  run  to  the  house. 

176 


WHAT    MIGHT    HAVE    BEEN 

"  Mr.  Carter,"  she  cried,  "  would  stop  for  those 
wretched  pots.  He 's  moved  all  except  two,  but 
he's  broken  three.     Is  n't  he  stupid  ?  " 

"  You  are  an  old  ass.  Carter,"  said  Archie. 

"  I  believe  you  're  right,  Archie,"  said  I. 


12  177 


XXII 

A    FATAL   OBSTACLE 

HAT  I  can't  make  out,"  I 
observed  (addressing  myself  to 
Lady  Jane),  "is  why  women 
don't  fall  in  love  with  me.  I  'm 
all  a  man  should  be,  and  a  rea- 
sonable number  of  things  that 
he  should  n't." 

Lady  Jane  always  tries  to  be  polite. 
"  Perhaps  it 's  just  that  you  don't  find  it  out," 
she  suggested  after  a  moment's  consideration. 

"I  shall  adopt  that  view,"  said  I,  cordially.  "  It 
will  add  a  spice  to  the  most  formal  greeting." 

"  It  '11  make  you  do  awfully  silly  things,"  re- 
marked  Dolly,  with  an  air  of  experience. 

Lady  Jane  was  looking  thoughtful.  "  Mamma 
says  love  comes  with  marriage,"  she  went  on 
presently. 

"Yes,  generally,"  I  assented.  "Not,"  I  added, 
turning  to  Dolly,  "  that  three  in  a  brougham  is 
really  comfortable,  you  know." 

"  One  has  to  invite  him  sometimes,"  Dolly 
murmured. 

178 


A    FATAL    OBSTACLE 

"Oh,  but  I  'm  sure  mamma  meant  — " 

"  Mamma  meant  that  you  'd  been  flirting  with 
the.  curate,  Jane." 

"Dorothea  dear!"   gasped  Lady  Jane. 

"The  secret  of  love  lies,  I  suppose,  in  unselfish- 
ness." (I  threw  out  the  suggestion  in  a  tentative 
way.) 

"  That 's  what  makes  Archie  such  a  good  hus- 
band," said  Dolly. 

"It  must,  of  course,  exist  on  both  sides,  Lady 
Mickleham." 

"Oh,  no,  that's  tiresome.  It's  like  getting 
through  the  door,  —  nobody '11  go  first." 

"  True.  You  spend  all  your  time  trying  to  be 
allowed  to  do  what  you  don't  want  to  do ;  and  the 
other  party  does  the  same." 

"  Mr.  Shenton  says  that  the  power  of  sympathy 
is  the  real  secret  of  it."  Mr.  Shenton,  by  the  way, 
is  the  curate. 

I  glanced  at  Dolly  and  shook  my  head ;  she 
nodded  approvingly.  Thus  buttressed,  I  re- 
marked deliberately,  — 

"  The  power  of  sympathy  has  wrecked  far  more 
homes  than  it  has  —  er  —  blessed.  I  would,  on 
the  whole,  back  it  against  the  Victoria  Cross." 

"I  think  I  could  love  a  man  just  for  being 
good,"  mused  Lady   Jane. 

"Oh,  you  impossible  kind  of  an  old  dear!" 
179 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

Dolly  gurgled  affectionately.  "  Besides,  that 's  no 
use  to  poor  Mr.  Carter." 

"I  am  not  so  very  bad,"  said  L  "Come  now, 
we'll  run  through  my  vices  and  — " 

"  I  think  I  forgot  to  water  that  fern,"  said  Lady 
Jane,  rather  suddenly. 

"  There  was  once  a  governess  —  "I  began, 
thinking  to  beguile  Dolly's  leisure  with  the  story. 
Lady  Jane  had  left  us. 

"  I  know  about  that.      Mrs.  Hilary  told  me." 

"Then  you  're  quite  friends  now?" 

"  Not  particularly,  but  one  must  talk  about 
something.  —  There  was  another  girl  in  love  with 
you  once,  too." 

"Why  not  have  told  me  at  the  time.^  I  should 
have  enjoyed  it." 

"  I  mustn't  tell  you  her  name." 

I  did  not  speak  for  a  moment. 

"  Well,  then,  it  was  Agatha  Hornton." 

"  Agatha  Martin  that  is  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  she  thought  that,  as  you  were  hope- 
less "  (Dolly  was  seeming  a  good  deal  amused  at 
something),  "  she  might  as  well  marry  Captain 
Martin." 

"One  can  be  unhappy  without  being  absurd," 
said  I,  rather  crossly.  "  Dear,  dear  !  *  Having 
known  me,  to  decline  — '  " 

"  Decline  .''  I  did  n't  say  she  absolutely  asked 
you!"  i8o 


^'She  used  to  bore  me  azvfu/ly  about  you 


A    FATAL    OBSTACLE 

"  I  wish  you  would  read  a  little  poetry  some- 
times. Your  ignorance  cramps  my  conversation. 
Was  she  very  fond  of  me?" 

"  She  thought  you  handsome"  said  Dolly,  con- 
clusively. 

"It  was  3.  grande  passion?  " 

"  Ohj  no.  She  'd  been  very  well  brought  up. 
But  she  just  adored  you." 

"She  was  a  nice  girl,  —  a  thoroughly  nice  girl. 
I  never  thought  much  of  Martin.  Ugly  fellow, 
too. 

"  She  used  to  bore  me  awfully  about  you.  You 
see,  I  was  her  great  friend,  and  she  knew  she  could 
trust  me." 

"  Not  to  give  her  away? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Dolly,  gently  caressing  the  Japan- 
ese pug  that  the  Admiral  Commanding  on  the 
Pacific  Station  has  recently  sent  her. 

"  It 's  beautiful  how  you  women  stand  by  one 
another,"  I  observed.  "  What  was  it  that  particu- 
larly attracted  her  in  me  ?  " 

"  I  really  cannot  think,"  said  Dolly  ;  "  any 
more  than  I  can  think  what  attracted  — ■  Oh,  do 
you  mind  ringing  the  bell  ?  It 's  Fushahima's 
tea-time." 

"  I  wish  she  took  it  a  minute  later,"  said  I,  as  I 
obeyed.  "  Martin  was  a  very  dull  chap,  you 
know." 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

**  Something  seems  to  have  set  you  thinking  of 
Captain  Martin." 

"  I  met  them  all  coming  back  from  church  (they 
were  coming  back,  I  mean)  a  Sunday  or  two  ago. 
Four,  are  n't  there  ?  " 

"  Five.     Three  girls  and  two  boys." 

"  Getting  big  too,  are  n't  they  ?  " 

"  Fine  children,  Mr.  Carter,"  observed  Dolly, 
cheerfully. 

"  She  was  certainly  a  clever  girl  —  in  those 
days." 

"  Ah,  in  those  days ! "  Dolly  murmured  with 
an  indulgent  smile,  —  one  that  means  you  can  go 
on  if  you  like,  but  that  you  are  obviously  rather 
foolish. 

"  Idyllic  happiness,"  said  I,  resuming  my  seat, 
"  comes  to  very  few  of  us.  Lady  Mickleham." 

"  Well,  one  marries,  or  something,  you  see." 

"  There  is,  of  course,  one 's  career." 

"  Archie 's  quite  keen  on  being  an  Under- 
Secretary." 

"  I  may  not  understand,  but  I  am  willing  to 
admire.  Why  did  n't  the  girl  encourage  me  ?  I 
expect  that 's  all  I  wanted." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  mean  by  encouragement  ?  " 
asked  Dolly,  pulling  Fushahima's  ears ;  she  is 
always  alive  to  the  artistic  value  of  the  brute 
creation. 

182 


A    FATAL    OBSTACLE 

"  What  I  mean  by  it  is  conveying,  how- 
ever dehcately,  that  I  was  the  only  man  in  the 
world  she  ever  did  or  ever  could  care  for. 
Is  n't  that  what  you  used  to  mean  by  it,  Lady 
Mickleham  ?  " 

"  You  can  take  Fushahima,  Pattern,"  said  Dolly. 

"Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Not  too  much  cream  in  her  milk." 

"  Very  good,  my  lady." 

"  What  were  you  saying,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"  I  forget,  my  lady." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  —  sometimes  there 
should  be. 

Then  I  took  my  tea  and  stood  on  the  hearth- 
rug, drinking  it. 

"  Solitude,  I  believe,  has  its  consolations,  when 
one  looks  at  other  people's  families.  Besides,  it 's 
surprising  the  number  of  little  luxuries  I  get  for 
nothing." 

"  For  nothing  .?  " 

"  Well,  out  of  Mrs.  Carter's  dress-allowance. 
It 's  quite  moderate, — only  four  hundred  a  year, — 
but  it  keeps  a  cab,  and  buys  a  little  drawing,  per- 
haps, and  so  on.     It 's  a  great  comfort,  I  assure 

>> 
you. 

Dolly  began  to  laugh  gently. 

"  She  'd  have  exceeded  it,  and  I   never  do  more 

than  anticipate  it,"  I  pursued. 

183 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  've  sometimes  wondered  at  your  extrava- 
gance." 

"  Ah,  well,  you  understand  it  now." 

"  Did  the  allowance  include  frocks  for  the 
girls  ?  " 

"  Pray  curb  your  imagination.  Lady  Mickle- 
ham." 

"  You  quite  shuddered  !  " 

"  I  had  visions  of  short  stiff  frocks  and  long 
black  stockings  —  like  a  family  group  at  the  Royal 
Academy  —  all  legs  and  innocence,  you  know." 

"Yes,  and  all  named  Carter!"  sighed  Dolly, 
with  a  commiserating  air. 

"  You  don't  like  the  name  ?  " 

"  Not  much." 

I  looked  at  Dolly,  I  think  we  must  have 
smiled. 

"  I  might  have  known  there  was  some  such 
reason,"  said  L 

"  I  do  wonder  what 's  become  of  Jane,  and  why 
they  don't  bring  Fushahima  back,"   said  Dolly. 

"  It's  always  a  comfort  to  get  at  the  real  reason 
of  anything.  Now  if  my  name  had  been  Vavas- 
our—  or  —  " 

"  I  don't  mind  *  Mr.  Carter  *  so  much,  but 
'  Mrs.  Carter'  sounds  horrible,"  Dolly  explained. 

"  Girls  being,  as  we  all  know,  in  the  habit  of 
writing  the  competing  names  in  conjunction  with 

184 


A    FATAL    OBSTACLE 

their  own  Christian  names  on  the  backs  of  en- 
velopes and  the  fly-leaves  of  library  books,  in 
order  to  see  how  they  look,  I  can  well  understand 
that  if  it  came  to  a  choice  between  Carter  and  —  " 

At  this  point,  before  I  had  fully  developed  my 
remark.  Lady  Jane  came  back.  She  sometimes 
does  by  accident  what  the  Dowager  would  do  on 
purpose.     Heredity,  I  imagine. 

"  I  've  been  thinking  about  it,"  said  Lady  Jane, 
"  and  I  'm  quite  sure  it 's  goodness  of  heart." 

"  A  fatal  obstacle  !  "  I  said,  shaking  my  head 
despondently. 

"  Another  !  "  murmured  Dolly,  with  a  lift  of 
her  brows. 

"  Shining  through,  you  know,  Mr,  Carter," 
added  Lady  Jane. 

"  I  really  don't  see  the  use  of  continuing  the 
conversation." 

"  You  must  encourage  him,  Dorothea,"  said 
Lady  Jane,  with  a  smile. 

Dolly  laughed  ;  I  won't  swear  she  did  n't  blush 
just  a  trifle. 

"  Oh,  I  've  given  up  trying  to  do  that  long  ago, 
Jane  dear,"  said  she. 

"  She  used  to  succeed  far  too  well,  you  know. 
Oh,  but  pray  allow  me  to  hand  you  a  cup  of  tea." 

I  went  away  soon  afterwards.  I  had  to  pay  a 
call — on  the  Martins. 

185 


XXIII 

THE    CURATE'S   BUMP 

IHAT  is  the  harm  ?  "  I  asked  at 
lunch,  "  in  being  fat  ?  "  and  I 
looked  round  the  table. 

I  had  led  up  to  this  subject  be- 
cause something  which  fell  from 
Mrs.  Hilary  Musgrave  the  other 
day  led  me  to  suppose  that  I  might  appear  to  be 
growing  stouter  than  I  used  to  be. 

"  It  does  n't  matter  in  a  man,"  said  NeUie 
Phaeton. 

"  That,"  I  observed,  "  is  merely  part  of  the 
favourite  pretence  of  your  sex." 

"  And  what 's  that,  Mr.  Carter  ?  "  asked  Dolly. 
"  That  you  're  indifferent  to  a  pleasing  appear- 
ance in  man.     It  won't  go  down." 

"  It  would  if  you  ate  less,"  said  Dolly,  wilfully 
misunderstanding  me. 

"  Napoleon  was  fat,"  remarked  Archie ;  he  is 
studying  history. 

"  Mamma  is  rather  fat,"  said  Lady  Jane,  break- 
ing a  long  silence  ;  her  tone  seemed  to  imply  that 
it  was  a  graceful  concession  on  the  Dowager's  part. 

i86 


THE    CURATE'S    BUMP 

"  I  should  n't  say  you  ever  had  much  of  a 
figure,"  observed  Dolly,  gazing  at  me  dispassion- 
ately. 

"  Mamma,"  resumed  Lady  Jane,  with  an  amia- 
ble desire  to  give  me  useful  information,  "  drinks 
nothing  but  lemonade.  I  make  it  hot  for  her 
and  —  " 

"  I  should  like  to  do  that,"  said  I,  longingly. 

"It's  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world,"  cried 
Lady  Jane.  "  You  can  do  it  for  yourself.  You 
just  take  —  " 

"  A  pretty  girl,"  I  murmured  absently.  "I  — 
I  beg  your  pardon.  Lady  Jane.  You  see.  Miss 
Phaeton  is  opposite  and  my  thoughts  wandered." 

"  It 's  no  use  talkin'  sensibly  where  you  are,"  said 
Miss  Nellie,  very  severely,  and  she  rose  from  the 
table. 

"  Won 't  anyone  have  any  rice  pudding .?  " 
asked  Archie,  appealingly. 

"  If  I  were  a  camel  I  would,"  said  I. 

"  Why  a  camel,  Mr.  Carter  ? "  asked  Lady 
Jane. 

"  A  camel.  Lady  Jane,  is  so  constructed  that  it 
could  keep  one  exclusively  for  rice  pudding." 

"  One  what,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

I  strolled  to  the  window,  where  Dolly  stood 
looking  out. 

"  Dear  Jane !  "  said  Dolly.  "  She  never  sees 
anything."  187 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  wish  there  were  more  Hke  her,"  said  I,  cor- 
dially. "  She  does  n't  inherit  it  from  her  mother, 
though." 

"No,  the  Dovv^ager  sees  a  great  deal  more  than 
there  is  there,"  laughed  Dolly,  glancing  at  me. 

"  But  fortunately,"  said  I,  "  not  all  there  is  in 
other  places." 

"Mamma  says  — "  we  heard  Lady  Jane  re- 
marking at  the  table.  We  strolled  out  into  the 
garden. 

"  Now,  is  n't  that  provoking  ?  "  cried  Dolly. 
"  They  have  n't  rolled  the  tennis  lawn,  and  the 
people  will  be  here  directly." 

"  Shall  I  ask  Archie  to  ask  somebody  to  get 
somebody  ?  " 

"  They  've  all  gone  to  dinner,  I  expect.  Sup- 
pose you  roll  it,  Mr.  Carter.  It'll  be  so  good 
for  you.     Exercise  is  what  you  want." 

"  Exercise  is,  no  doubt,  what  I  need,"  said  I, 
doubtfully  eying  the  roller. 

"  It 's  the  same  thing,"  said  Dolly. 

"  It 's  an  Eternal  Antithesis,"  said  I,  taking  off 
my  coat. 

I  began  to  roll.  Dolly  stood  watching  me  for 
a  moment.  Then  she  went  indoors.  I  went  on 
rolling.  Presently,  raising  my  eyes  from  my  task, 
I  found  the  curate  looking  on ;  he  was  in  flannels 
and  carried  a  racket. 


>2 


5"     "t^ 


g 


THE    CURATE'S    BUMP 

"  Although,"  I  observed  to  the  curate,  ^'  I  have 
convinced  my  reason  that  there  is  no  harm  in 
being  fat,  yet,  sooner  than  be  fat,  I  roll.  Can 
you  explain  that?" 

"  Reason  is  not  everything,"  said  the  curate. 

"Your  cloth  obliges  you  to  that,"  said  I, 
suspiciously. 

"  I  'm  in  flannels  to-day,"  enjoined  the  curate, 
with  a  smile. 

I  liked  that.  I  loosed  my  hold  of  the  roller 
and  took  the  curate's  arm.  We  began  to  walk 
up  and  down. 

"There  is  also,"  said  I,  "romance!  " 

"There's  little  enough  of  that  for  most  of 
us,"  said  the  curate. 

"There  has  been  too  much  for  some  of  us," 
I  returned.  "  But  the  lawn  is  smooth  where  the 
roller  has  been.  The  bumps  —  the  pleasant 
bumps  —  are  gone." 

"They  spoilt  the  game,"  observed  the  curate. 

"  They  made  the  game,"  said  I,  frowning  a 
little. 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute.  Then  the 
curate  asked, — 

"  Is  Lady  Jane  going  to  play  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  seemed  like  Fate  with  that  roller,"  said  I. 
"Or  like  Time." 

The  curate  smiled  absently. 
189 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Or  like  Morality,"  I  pursued. 

The  curate  smiled  indulgently ;  he  was  in 
flannels,  good  man. 

"  As  to  Lady  Jane,"  said  I,  recollecting  myself, 
"  I  don't  know." 

"  It  's  of  no  consequence,"  murmured  the 
curate. 

At  once  I  knew  that  it  was  of  consequence  — 
to  the  curate.  But  my  thoughts  drifted  in  another 
direction,  and,  when  I  emerged  from  the  reverie,  I 
saw  Lady  Jane  and  the  curate  strolling  together 
on  the  lawn,  and  Lady  Mickleham  approaching 
me  in  a  white  gown ;  she  carried  a  red  parasol. 

"  Archie  and  Nellie  will  be  out  directly,"  said 
she,  "  and  then  you  can  begin." 

"  They  can,"  said  I,  putting  on  my  coat  and 
lighting  a  cigarette. 

"  Look  at  that  poor  dear  man  with  Jane  !  "  ex- 
claimed Dolly.  "  Now  should  you  have  thought 
that  Jane  was  the  sort  of  person  to  —  ?  " 

"  Everybody,"  said  I,  "  is  the  sort  of  person  — 
if  the  other  person  is." 

"  Of  course  he  knows  It 's  hopeless.  The 
Dowager  would  n't  hear  of  it." 

"  Really  ?     And  she  hears  of  so  many  things  !  " 

Dolly,  after  a  contemptuous  glance,  began  to 
inspect  the  lawn.  I  retired  into  the  shade  and  sat 
down.      Lady  Jane  and  the  curate  strolled  a  little 

190 


THE    CURATE'S    BUMP 

further  off.     Presently  I  was  roused  by  an  accus- 
ing cry  from  Dolly. 

"  She's  found  a  bump,"  said  I  to  myself,  shak- 
ing my  head. 

"You  can  never  do  things  properly,"  said 
Dolly,  walking  up  to  me. 

"  I  certainly  can't  do  many  things  in  the  way  I 
should  prefer,"  I  admitted. 

"  You  Ve  left  a  great  bump  In  the  middle  of  the 
Court." 

My  eyes  strayed  from  Dolly  to  Lady  Jane  and 
the  curate,  and  thence  back  to  Dolly. 

"  It 's  not  my  bump,"  said  I  ;  "  it 's  the  curate's." 

"  You  're  getting  into  the  habit,"  remarked 
Dolly,  "  of  being  unintelligible.  I  'm  sure  there  's 
nothing  clever  in  it.  I  met  a  man  the  other  day 
who  said  he  never  understood  what  you  meant." 

^*  You'd  understand  if  you 'd  stayed;  why  did 
you  go  away  ?  " 

"  To  change,"  answered  Dolly. 

I  was  pleased. 

"  It's  an  old  trick  of  yours,"  said  I. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  the  bump  being  the 
curate's  ?  "  asked  Dolly,  returning  to  the  point. 

I  entered  into  an  explanation.  There  was 
plenty  of  time  ;  the  curate  and  Lady  Jane  were 
strolling,  the  click  of  billiard  balls  through  the 
open  windows  accounted  for  Nellie  and  Archie. 

191 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  see,"  said  Doily.  "  Poor  man  !  Do  you 
think  he  'd  like  it  left  ?  " 

I  walked  leisurely  towards  the  roller,  Dolly 
following  me. 

"  If  it  were  my  bump,"  said  I,  laying  hold  of 
the  roller,  and  looking  at  Lady  Mickleham. 

Lady  Mickleham  smiled — under  protest.  It  is 
a  good  enough  variety ''of  smile. 

"  If  it  were  my  bump,"  said  I,  "  I  should  re- 
duce it  —  so  —  and  so  again,"and  twice  I  passed  the 
roller  gently  over  the  bump. 

"  It 's  awfully  small  now,"  said  Dolly  ;  and  her 
voice  sounded  regretful. 

"  It's  not  so  large  as  it  was,"  said  I,  cheerfully. 

Dolly  let  down  her  parasol  with  a  jerk. 

"You  're  horribly  disagreeable  to-day,"  she  said. 

I  leant  on  the  handle  of  the  roller  and  smiled. 

"  You  're  very  rude  and  —  and  —  " 

"  Nobody,"  said  I,  "  likes  to  be  told  that  he  has 
no  figure." 

"You  are  an  Apollo,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Dolly. 

That  was  handsome  enough. 

"  I  would  let  it  alone,  if  it  were  my  bump," 
said  I.     "  Hang  these  rollers  !  " 

"  It  is  your  bump,"  said  Dolly. 

As  she  spoke  Archie  came  out  of  the  billiard 
room.  Lady  Jane  and  the  curate  hastened  to  join 
us.     Archie  inspected  the  lawn. 

192 


Toil  are  an  Apolh,  Mr.   Carter  " 


THE    CURATE'S    BUMP 

"  Why,  it 's  been  rolled  !  "  he  cried. 

"  I  rolled  it,"  said  I,  proudly. 

"Jove!"  said  Archie.  "Hullo,  though,  old 
chap,  you  have  n't  been  over  here." 

He  had  found  the  bump. 

"  I  have  been  over  there,"  said  I,  "  oftener  than 
anywhere  else." 

"  Give  me  the  —  " 

"  Now,  Archie,  do  begin  to  play,"  said  Dolly, 
suddenly. 

"  Oh,  well,  one  does  n't  hurt,"  said  Archie. 

"  It  won't  hurt  much,"  said  the  curate  ;  upon 
which  I  smiled  at  Lady  Jane. 

"  What  is  it,  Mr.  Carter?  "  she  asked. 

"  He  's  so  right,  you  know,"  said  I. 


13  193 


XXIV 

ONE   WAY    IN 

^tt^^fc^^,^^^  HAD  a  very  curious  dream  the 
^^^^^^^^^  other   night.     In   fact,    I    dreamt 

^^P  T  ^^^  ^^^^  ^  ^^^  dead.  I  passed 
^^j|l^.l[c^^  through  a  green  baize  door  and 
^^^w^^^^  found  myself  in  a  small  square 
'^^^i^M^^^  room.  Opposite  me  was  another 
door,  inscribed  "  Elysian  Fields,"  and  in  front  of 
it,  at  a  large  table  with  a  raised  ledge,  sat  Rhada- 
manthus.  As  I  entered,  I  saw  a  graceful  figure 
vanish  through   the  door  opposite. 

"It 's  no  use  trying  to  deceive  me,"  I  observed. 
"  That  was  Mrs.  Hilary,  I  think ;  if  you  don't 
mind,  I  '11  join  her." 

"I'm  afraid  I  must  trouble  you  to  take  a  seat 
for  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  Rhadaman- 
thus,  "  while  I  run  over  your  little  account." 

"Any  formalities  which  are  usual,"  I  murmured 
politely,  as  I  sat  down. 

Rhadamanthus  turned  over  the  leaves  of  a  large 
book. 

"  Carter —  Samuel  Travers,  is  n't  it?"  he  asked. 
194 


ONE   WAY    IN 

"Yes.  For  goodness'  sake  don't  confuse  me 
with  Vincent  Carter.  He  only  paid  five  shillings 
in  the  pound." 

"  Your  case  presents  some  peculiar  features, 
Mr.  Carter,"  said  Rhadamanthus.  "  I  hope  I 
am  not  censorious,  but — well,  that  fine  at  Bow- 
street?" 

"  I  was  a  mere  boy,"  said  I,  with  some  warmth, 
"  and  my  solicitor  grossly  mismanaged  the  case." 

"  Well,  well  !  "  said  he,  soothingly.  "  But 
have  n't  you  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  at  Monte 
Carlo .?  " 

"A  man  must  be  somewhere,"  said  I. 

Rhadamanthus  scratched  his  nose. 

"  I  should  have  wasted  the  money  anyhow,"  I 
added. 

"  I  suppose  you  would,"  he  conceded.  "  But 
what  of  this  caveat  lodged  by  the  Dowager  Lady 
Mickleham  ?  That 's  rather  serious,  you  know  ; 
is  n't  it  now  — joking  apart  ?  " 

"  I  am  disappointed,"  I  remarked,  "  to  find  a 
man  of  your  experience  paying  any  attention  to 
such  an  ill-natured  old  woman." 

"  We  have  our  rules,"  he  replied,  "  and  I  'm 
afraid,  Mr.  Carter,  that  until  that  caveat  is 
removed  —  " 

"You  don't  mean  that  ?  " 

"  Really,  I  'm  afraid  so." 
•95 


THE    DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"Then  I  may  as  well  go  back,"  said  I,  taking 
my  hat. 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"Although  I  can't  oblige  you  with  an  order 
of  admission,"  said  Rhadamanthus,  very  civilly, 
"perhaps  it  would  amuse  you  to  hsten  to  a  case 
or  two.  There  's  no  hurry,  you  know.  You  've 
got  lots  of  time  before  you." 

"  It  will  be  an  extremely  interesting  experience," 
said  I,  sitting  down  again. 

The  door  opened,  and,  as  I  expected  (I  don't 
know  why,  but  it  happens  like  that  in  dreams), 
Dolly  Mickleham  came  in.  She  did  not  seem  to 
see  me.  She  bowed  to  Rhadamanthus,  smiled, 
and  took  a  chair  immediately  opposite  the  table. 

"  Mickleham  —  Dorothea  —  Countess  of  —  " 
she  said. 

"Formerly,  I  think,  Dolly  Foster?"  asked 
Rhadamanthus. 

"  I  don't  see  what  that 's  got  to  do  with  it," 
said  Dolly. 

"  The  account  runs  on,"  he  explained,  and 
began  to  consult  his  big  book.  Dolly  leant  back 
in  her  chair,  slowly  peeling  off  her  gloves.  Rhada- 
manthus shut  the  book  with  a  bang. 

"  It 's  not  the  least  use,"  he  said  decisively. 
"  It  would  n't  be  kind  to  pretend  that  it  was.  Lady 
Mickleham." 

196 


ONE    WAY    IN 

"  Dear,  dear !  "  said  Dolly.  "  What 's  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  Half  the  women  in  London  have  petitioned 
against  you." 

"  Have  they  really  ?  "  cried  Dolly,  to  all 
appearance  rather  delighted.  "  What  do  they 
say,  Mr.  Rhadamanthus  ?  Is  it  in  that  book  ? 
Let  me  look."     And  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"  The  book  's  too  heavy  for  you  to  hold,"  said 
he. 

"  I  '11  come  round,"  said  Dolly.  So  she  went 
round  and  leant  over  his  shoulder  and  read  the 
book. 

"What's  that  scent  you've  got  on?"  asked 
Rhadamanthus. 

"Bouquet  du  diable,"  said  she.  (I  had  never 
heard  of  the  perfume  before.)     "  Is  n't  it  sweet  ?  " 

"  I  have  n't  smelt  it  since  I  was  a  boy,"  sighed 
Rhadamanthus. 

"  Poor  old  thing  !  "  said  Dolly.  "  I  'm  not 
going  to  read  all  this,  you  know."  And,  with  a 
somewhat  contemptuous  smile,  she  walked  back  to 
her  chair.  "  They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  them- 
selves," she  added,  as  she  sat  down.  "  It 's  just 
because  I  'm  not  a  fright." 

"Aren't  you  a  fright?"  asked  Rhadamanthus. 
"  Where  are  my  spectacles  ?  " 

He  put  them  on  and  looked  at  Dolly. 
197 


THE  DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  I  must  go  In,  you  know/'  said  Dolly,  smiling 
at  Rhadamanthus.     "  My  husband  has  gone  in  !  " 

"  I  should  n't  have  thought  you  'd  consider  that 
conclusive,"  said  he,  with  a  touch  of  satire  in  his 
tone. 

"  Don't  be  horrid,"  said  Dolly,  pouting. 

There  was  a  pause.  Rhadamanthus  examined 
Dolly  through  his  spectacles. 

"  This  is  a  very  painful  duty,"  said  he,  at  last. 
"  I  have  sat  here  for  a  great  many  years,  and  I 
have  seldom  had  a  more  painful  duty." 

"  It 's  very  absurd  of  you,"  said  Dolly. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  though,"  said  he. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  that  I  'm  not  to  go  in  ^ " 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  said  Rhadamanthus. 
^  Dolly  rose.     She  leant  her  arms  on  the  raised 
ledge  which  ran  along  the  table,  and  she  leant  her 
chin  on  her  hands. 

"  Really  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Really,"  said  he,  looking  the  other  way. 

A  sudden  change  came  over  Dolly's  face.  Her 
dimples  vanished :  her  eyes  grew  pathetic  and 
began  to  shine  rather  than  to  sparkle :  her  lip 
quivered  just  a  little. 

"  You  're  very  unkind,"  she  said  in  an  extremely 
low  tone.  "  I  had  no  idea  you  would  be  so 
unkind." 

Rhadamanthus  seemed  very  uncomfortable. 
198 


ONE    WAY    IN 

"  Don't  do  that,"  he  said  quite  sharply,  fidget- 
ing with  the  blotting-paper. 

Dolly  began  to  move  slowly  round  the  table. 
Rhadamanthus  sat  still.  When  she  was  standing 
close  by  him,  she  put  her  hand  lightly  on  his  arm 
and  said,  — 

"  Please  do,  Mr.  Rhadamanthus." 

"It's  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth,"  he 
grumbled. 

Dolly's  eyes  shone  still,  but  the  faintest  little 
smile  began  to  play  about  her  mouth. 

"  Some  day,"  she  said  (with  total  inappropriate- 
ness,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  though  it  did  not 
strike  me  so  at  the  time),  "  you  '11  be  glad  to  re- 
member having  done  a  kind  thing.  When  you  're 
old  —  because  you  are  not  really  old  now — you 
will  say,  '  I 'm  glad  I  didn't  send  poor  Dolly 
Mickleham   away    Crying.'  " 

Rhadamanthus  uttered  an  inarticulate  sound,  — 
half  impatience,  half,  I  fancy,  something  else. 

"  We  are  none  of  us  perfect,  I  dare  say.  If  I 
asked  your  wife  —  " 

"  I  have  n't  got  a  wife,"  said  Rhadamanthus. 

"  That 's  why  you  're  so  hard-heaTted,"  said 
Dolly.  "  A  man  who  's  got  a  wife  is  never  hard 
on  other  women." 

There  was  another  pause.  Then  Rhadamanthus, 
looking  straight  at  the  blotting-paper,  said, — 

199 


THE   DOLLY    DIALOGUES 

"  Oh,  well,  don't  bother  me.  Be  off  with 
you  ;  "  and  as  he  spoke,  the  door  behind  him 
opened. 

Dolly's  face  broke  out  into  sudden  sunshine. 
Her  eyes  danced,  her  dimples  capered  over  her 
chin. 

"  Oh,  you  old  dear  !  "  she  cried  ;  and,  stooping 
swiftly,  she  kissed  Rhadamanthus.  "  You  're 
horribly  bristly  !  "  she  laughed  ;  and  then,  before 
he  could  move,  she  ran  through  the  door. 

I  rose  from  my  seat,  taking  my  hat  and  stick  in 
my  hand.  I  felt,  as  you  may  suppose,  that  I  had 
been  there  long  enough.  When  I  moved, 
Rhadamanthus  looked  up,  and  with  an  attempt  at 
unconsciousness  observed,  — 

"We  will  proceed  with  your  case  now,  if  you 
please,  Mr.  Carter." 

I  looked  him  full  in  the  face.  Rhadaman- 
thus blushed.  I  pursued  my  way  towards  the 
door. 

"  Stop  !  "  he  said,  in  a  blustering  tone.  "  You 
can't  go  there,  you  know." 

I  smiled  significantly. 

"  Is  n't  it  rather  too  late  for  that  sort  of  thing  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  You  seem  to  forget  that  I  have  been 
here  for  the  last  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  I  did  n't  know  she  was  going  to  do  it,"  he 
protested. 

200 


ONE    WAY    IN 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  I,  "  that  will  be  your 
story.  Mine,  however,  I  shall  tell  in  my  own 
way." 

Rhadamanthus  blushed  again.  Evidently  he 
felt  that  he  was  in  a  delicate  position.  We  were 
standing  thus,  facing  one  another,  when  the  door 
began  to  open  again,  and  Dolly  put  her  head  out. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it?  "  she  said.  "  I  thought  I 
heard  your  voice.  Come  along  and  help  me  to 
find  Archie." 

"  This  gentleman  says  I  'm  not  to  come  in," 
said  I. 

"  Oh,  what  nonsense  !  Now,  you  really  must  n't 
be  silly,  Mr.  Rhadamanthus  —  or  I  shall  have  to 
—  Mr.  Carter,  you  were  n't  there,  were  you  ?  " 

"  I  was  —  and  a  more  interesting  piece  of  scan- 
dal it  has  seldom  been —  " 

"Hush!  I  didn't  do  anything.  Now,  you 
know   I   did  n't,   Mr.   Carter  ! " 

"No,"  said  I,  "you  didn't.  But  Rhadaman- 
thus, taking  you  unawares  —  " 

"  Oh,  be  off  with  you  —  both  of  you  i  "  cried 
Rhadamanthus. 

"That's  sensible,"  said  Dolly.  "  Because,  you 
know,  there  really  is  n't  any  harm  in  poor  Mr. 
Carter." 

Rhadamanthus  vanished.  Dolly  and  I  went 
inside. 

201 


THE   DOLLY   DIALOGUES 

"  I  suppose  everything  will  be  very  different 
here,"  said  Dolly,  and  I  think  she  sighed. 

Whether  it  were  or  not  I  don't  know,  for  just 
then  I  awoke,  and  found  myself  saying  aloud,  in 
answer  to  the  dream-voice  and  the  dream-face 
(which  had  not  gone  altogether  with  the  dream), 

"Not  everything,"  —  a  speech  that,  I  agree,  I 
ought  not  to  have  made,  even  though  it  were  only 
in  a  dream. 


^ 


103 
ICEi 

r 

m 


IFO 


CEL 


JF' 


n 


^^WEUNIVERSy^       ^>;lOSANCElfj> 


^HIBRARYOr         ^HIBRARYQr 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


uisCHARGt  ukJI 
APR    71980 


Form  L9-Series  4939 


Til 


0^ 


>i. 


bi-. 


so 

il 


'a 


vr. 


ZJ I  I  §    ^  ZJ\  I  E 


c^        -f^ 


^^Aavuaiii^      ^OAavaaii-^^ 


SANCElfXx 


SANC[l£r>. 


^^HIBBARYCc^ 

llJiTi 

"^(i/OJITVD-JO^ 


^OFCAllFOff/^ 


^ILIBRARY^?^ 


aweuniver% 


^.!/0JITV3J0^ 


^OFCALIFOff^ 


,^\^EUNIVER%. 

^v  .fish's. 


.vlOSANCElfj^ 

O 


%a3AiNn-3WV 


^vWSANCElfj-^ 


'1^^    000  386  440    2 


.vVlOSANCafj> 
o 


^ 


OFC. 


^  y-J 


^Hm 


LT       3  1158  00566  9824 


iOJllV3-:lO^ 


:F0/?4^ 


%a3AiN(i]WV         ^<?Abvaaiii^'     '^^AdVhaiH^ 


%a3Ai 

lOSANCEl 


^J 


iUi'-  ■ 


UV^^ 


Y/7. 


6:' 


^ 


